^^'S^^WSVv 

\^&^&w~Jj£&*&f » §* 
x'^ri-.-/^-,^**^    "•  ^"  ••.<!'»  »i 


THE    MERRT  ANNE 


"She  stood  at  the  wheel,   a  very  graceful  creature." 


SAMUEL   MERWIN 


AUTHOR   OF   "  HIS   LITTLE   WORLD  " 


JOINT  AUTHOR  OF 

"THE  SHORT  LINE  WAR,"  ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 

AND    DECORATIONS 
BY  THOMAS  FOGARTY 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

LONDON:  MACMILLAN  &  Co.,  LTD. 

1904 


All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1904, 
Bv  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up,  electrotyped,  and  published  April,  1904. 


NcrtoooB  J8 
J.  S.  Cashing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


DearH.  K.  W.: 

This  tale  dedicates  itself  to  you 
as  a  matter  of  right.  For  we 
grew  up  together  on  the  bank  of 
Lake  Michigan  ;  and  you  have  not 
forgotten,  over  there  in  Paris, 
the  real  house  on  stilts,  nor  the 
miles  we  have  tramped  along  the 
beach,  —  nor,  I  am  sure,  the  grim 
old  life-saver  on  the  night  patrol 
near  Ludington,  and  his  sturdy 
scorn  for  our  student  life-savers 
at  Evanston.  And  the  endless 

night  on  Black  Lake,  with  Klondike  Andrews  at  the  tiller 
and  never  a  breath  of  wind,  —  we  shall  not  forget  that. 
Once  we  differed:  I  failed  to  tempt  you  into  a  paddle  in  the 
Old,  one  fresh  spring  day  three  years  ago  ;  but  then,  your 
instinct  of  self-preservation  always  worked  better  than  mine, 
as  the  adventure  in  the  Swampscott  dory  will  recall  to  you. 

But,  after  all,  these  doings  do  not  make  up  the  reason  why 
the  story  is  partly  yours  ;  nor  do  the  changes  in  the  text  that 
sprang  from  your  friendly  comment.  I  will  tell  you  the  real 
reason.  Early,  very  early,  one  summer  morning,  you  and  I 
stood  on  the  wheel-house  of  the  Pere  Marquette  Steamer 
No.  4. —  or  was  it  the  No.  3? — a  few  hours  from  Milwaukee. 
The  Lake  was  still,  the  thick  mist  was  faintly  illuminated  by 
the  hidden  sun.  Of  a  sudden,  while  the  steamer  was  throb- 


bing  through  the  silence,  a  motionless  schooner,  fainted  blue, 

with  a  man  in  a 

\  ^    r 

red  shirt  at   the 

wheel,  loomed 

through  the  mist, 

stood  out  for  one 

vivid     moment, 

then  faded  away. 

That  schooner 

was    the    Merry 

Anne  ;    and    the 

man  at  the  wheel 

was  Dick  Smiley. 

What  if  he  should 

some  day  chance  upon  this  tale  and  declare  it  untrue  ?     We 

know  better,  for  we  saw  it  there. 

8.  M. 

Nttberivood, 
January, 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Dick  and  his  Merry  Anne           .         .         •  1 5 

II.     The  New  Mate 41 

III.  At  the  House  on  Stilts       ....  69 

IV.  The  Circle  Mark 91 

V.      Burnt  Cove "7 

VI.  The  Red  Seal  Label           .         .                   .  H5 

VII.  Drawing  Together    .          .                    .          .  I?1 

VIII.  The  Evening  of  the  Same  Day    .          .         -199 

IX.  The  Chase  begins — Thursday  Morning        .  227 

X.  Thursday  Night  —  the  Gingham  Dress           .  251 

XI.  Thursday  Night  —  Van  Deelen's  Bridge        .  291 

XII.  The  Meeting.          .                    .                    •  3*9 

XIII.  Whiskey  Jim 345 

XIV.  Harbor  Lights  .                                         •  371 
XV.  In  which  Beveridge  surprises  himself     .          .401 


"  She  stood  at  the  wheel,  a  very  graceful  creature  " 

Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

Henry  Smiley    .......       46 

««  Gazing  into  the  square  black  hole  "     .          .          .212 
"  The  discovery  of  the  gingham  dress  "  .          .278 

"  The  black  forest  shut  in  behind  him  "  .          .      304 

"  '  Put  up  your  guns,  boys,'  said  Henry  "       .          .      368 


CHAPTER    I 

DICK   AND    HIS   MERRY  ANNE 


THE  MERRT  ANNE 


t  CHAPTER   I 

DICK  AND  HIS  MERRY  ANNE 

F  I  ^HE  Merry  Anne  was  the  one  lumber 
A  schooner  on  Lake  Michigan  that  always 
appeared  freshly  painted ;  it  was  Dick  Smiley's 
wildest  extravagance  to  keep  her  so.  Sky  blue 
she  was  (Annie's  favorite  color),  with  a  broad 
white  line  below  the  rail;  and  to  see  her  run 
ning  down  on  the  north  wind,  her  sails  white 

B  I7 


i8  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

in  the  sun,  her  bow  laying  the  waves  aside 
in  gentle  rolls  to  port  and  starboard,  her  cap 
tain  balancing  easily  at  the  wheel,  in  red  shirt, 
red  and  blue  neckerchief,  and  slouch  hat,  was 
to  feel  stirring  in  one  the  old  spirit  of  the 
Lakes. 

It  was  a  lowering  day  off  Manistee.  Out 
on  the  horizon,  now  and  then  dipping  below 
it,  a  tug  was  struggling  to  hold  two  barges 
up  into  the  wind.  Within  the  harbor,  at 
the  wharf  of  the  lumber  company,  lay  the 
Merry  Anne.  Two  of  her  crew  were  below, 
sleeping  off  an  overdose  of  Manistee  whiskey. 
The  third,  a  boy  of  seventeen,  got  up  in 
slavish  imitation  of  his  captain,  —  red  shirt, 
slouch  hat,  and  all,  —  was  at  work  lashing 
down  the  deck  load.  Roche,  the  mate,  stood 
on  the  wharf,  the  centre  of  a  little  group  of 
stevedores  and  rivermen.  "  Hi  there,  Pink," 
he  shouted  at  the  red  shirt,  "what  you  doin' 
there  ? " 

The  boy  threw  a  sweeping  glance  lake- 
ward  before  replying,  "  Makin'  fast." 

"  That'll  do  for  you.  There  won't  be  no 
start  this  afternoon." 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRY  ANNE       19 

"But  Cap'  Smiley  said  —  " 

"  None  o'  your  lip,  or  I'll  Cap'  Smiley 
you." 

"  Pretty  ugly,  out  there,  all  right  enough," 
observed  a  riverman.  "  Comin'  up  worse, 
too.  Give  you  a  stiff  time  with  all  that  stuff 
aboard." 

"  I  ain't  so  sure  about  that,"  said  Roche, 
with  a  swagger.  "If  /  was  cap'n  o'  this 
schooner,  she'd  start  on  the  minute,  but 
Smiley's  one  o'  your  fair-weather  sort." 

"  Sure  he  is.  He  done  a  heap  o'  talkin' 
about  that  time  he  brung  the  William  Jones 
into  Black  Lake  before  the  wind,  the  day  the 
John  T.  Eversley  was  lost ;  but  Billy  Under- 
down  was  sailin'  with  him  then,  and  he  told 
me  hisself  that  he  had  the  wheel  all  the  way 
—  Smiley  never  done  a  thing  but  hang  on  to 
the  companionway  and  holler  at  him  to  look 
out  for  the  north  set  o'  the  surf  outside  the 
piers ;  and  there's  my  little  Andy  that  ain't 
nine  year  old  till  the  sixth  o'  September, 
could  ha'  told  him  the  surf  sets  south  off 
Black  Lake,  with  a  northwest  wind.  If  it 
hadn't  been  for  Billy,  the  Lord  only  knows 
where  Dick  Smiley'd  be  to-day." 


20  THE   MERRT  JNNE 

A  tug  hand  had  joined  the  group,  and  now 
he  addressed  himself  to  Roche. 

"  Cap'n  Peters  wants  to  know  if  you're 
a-goin'  to  try  to  make  it,  Mr.  Roche." 

"Not  by  a  dam'  sight." 

"  Well  —  I  guess  he  won't  be  sorry  to  wait 
till  mornin'.  What  time  do  you  think  you'll 
want  us  ? " 

"  Six  o'clock  sharp." 

"  Them's  Cap'n  Smiley's  orders,  is  they  ?  " 

"Them's  my  orders,  and  they're  good 
enough  for  you." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,  of  course,  only  Cap'n 
Peters,  he  said  if  'twas  anybody  else,  he'd 
just  tie  up  and  wait,  but  there  ain't  never 
any  tellin',  he  says,  what  Dick  Smiley '11  take 
it  into  his  head  to  do." 

"You  tell  your  cap'n  that  Mr.  Roche  said 
to  come  at  six  in  the  mornin'." 

"All  right.  I'll  tell  him.  Say  — Cap'n 
Smiley  ain't  a,nywhere  around,  is  he  ? " 

"No,  Cap'n  Smiley  ain't  anywheres  around!  " 
mimicked  Roche,  angrily.  "  If  you  want  to 
know  whereabouts  Cap'n  Smiley  is,  he's  up 
town  skylarkin',  that's  where  he  is." 

The  river  hands  laughed  at  this. 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRY  ANNE       21 

"  I  reckon  he's  somethin'  of  a  hand  for 
the  ladies,  Dick  Smiley  is,  with  them  blue 
eyes  o'  his'n,"  said  one.  "  I  ain't  a-tellin', 
you  understand,  but  there's  boys  in  town 
here  that  could  let  you  know  a  thing  or  two 
if  they  was  minded." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Dick  was  at  that  mo 
ment  in  an  up-town  jewellery  shop,  fingering 
a  necklace  of  coral. 

"  I  want  a  longer  one,"  he  was  saying, 
"with  something  pretty  hanging  on  the  end 
of  it  —  there,  that's  the  boy  —  the  one  with 
big  rough  beads  and  the  red  rose  carved  on 
the  end." 

"  Must  be  somebody's  birthday,  Captain," 
observed  the  jeweller,  with  a  wink. 

And  Dick,  who  could  never  resist  a  wink, 
replied :  "  That's  what.  Day  after  to-morrow, 
too,  and  I  haven't  any  too  much  time  to 
make  it  in." 

"Here's  a  nice  piece  —  if  she  likes  the 
real  red." 

Dick  took  it  in  his  hands  and  nodded  over 
it.  "  I  think  that  would  please  her.  She  likes 
bright  colors."  He  drew  a  wallet  from  a  hip 
pocket  and  disclosed  a  thick  bundle  of  bills. 


22  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  I  shouldn't  think  you'd  like  to  carry  so 
much  money  on  you,  Captain,  in  your  line  of 
work." 

"  It  isn't  so  much.  They  are  most  all 
ones."  But  the  jeweller,  seeing  a  double  X 
on  the  top,  only  smiled  and  remarked  that  it 
was  a  dark  day. 

"Yes,  too  dark.  I  don't  like  it.  Makes 
me  think  of  the  cyclone  three  years  ago  April, 
when  the  Kate  Howard  went  down  off  Lake- 
ville.  I  spent  three  hours  roosting  on  the 
topmast  that  day.  It  was  black  then,  like 
this.  If  it  keeps  up,  you'll  have  to  turn  on 
your  lights  in  here." 

"  Guess  I  will.  It  wouldn't  hurt  now. 
Well,  good-by,  Captain.  Drop  in  again  next 
time  you  run  in  here." 

"  All  right.  But  there's  no  telling  when 
that  will  be.  I  have  to  go  where  Captain 
Stenzenberger  sends  me,  you  know." 

"  You  don't  own  your  schooner  yet,  then  ?  " 

"  No  ;  only  a  quarter  of  it.  Well,  good-by." 
And  he  left  the  shop  with  the  corals,  securely 
wrapped,  stowed  in  an  inside  pocket. 

The  first  big  drops  of  rain  were  falling  when 
he  reached  the  schooner.  The  deck  was 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRY  ANNE       23 

deserted,  but  he  found  Roche  and  his  wharf 
acquaintances  settled  comfortably  in  the  cabin. 
Their  talk  stopped  abruptly  at  the  sight  of  his 
boots  coming  down  the  companionway. 

"  Why  isn't  the  load  lashed  down,  Pete  ? " 
he  asked,  addressing  Roche. 

"  Why  —  oh,  it  was  lookin'  so  bad,  I  thought 
we'd  better  wait  till  you  come." 

"  Where's  the  tug  ?  Don't  Peters  know  we 
want  him  ? " 

The  loungers  were  silent.  All  looked  at 
Roche. 

"Why,  yes  —  sure.  He  ain't  showed  up 
yet,  though." 

"  You  ain't  goin'  to  try  to  make  it,  are  you, 
Cap'n  ?  "  asked  a  riverman. 

"  Going  to  try  ?  We  are  going  to  make  it, 
if  that's  what  you  mean." 

One  of  the  men  rose.  "  I'm  going  up  the 
wharf,  Cap'n.  If  you  like,  I'll  speak  to 
Peters." 

"  All  right.  I  wish  you  would.  And  say, 
Pete,  you  take  Pink  and  see  that  everything 
is  down  solid.  I  don't  care  to  distribute  those 
two-by-fours  all  down  the  east  coast." 

Roche  went  out,  and  the  others  got  up  one 


24  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

by  one  and  took  shelter  in  the  lee  of  a  lumber 
pile  on  the  wharf.  A  little  later,  when  he  saw 
the  tug  steaming  up  the  river,  Roche  shook  the 
rain  from  his  eyes  and  looked  long  at  the  black 
cloud  billows  that  were  rolling  up  from  the 
northwest,  then  he  slipped  below  and  took  a 
strong  pull  at  his  flask.  The  tug  came  along 
side,  and  then  Roche  sought  Dick. 

"  Cap'n,  what's  the  use  ?  "  he  said  in  an  agi 
tated  voice.  "  Don't  you  see  we're  runnin' 
our  nose  right  into  it?  Why,  if  we  was  a 
three-hundred-footer,  we'd  have  our  hands 
full  out  there.  I  don't  like  to  say  nothin', 
but  —  " 

Smiley,  his  hat  jammed  on  the  back  of  his 
head,  his  shirt,  now  dripping  wet,  clinging  to 
his  trunk  and  outlining  bunches  of  muscle 
on  his  shoulders  and  back,  his  light  hair 
stringing  down  over  his  forehead,  merely 
looked  at  him  curiously. 

"  You  see  how  it  is,  Cap'n,  I  —  " 

"  What  are  you  talking  about  ?  All  right, 
Pink,  make  fast  there !  Who's  running  this 
schooner,  you  or  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  nothin',  Cap'n ;  but 
seein'  there  ain't  no  particular  hurry  —  " 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRY  ANNE       25 

"No  hurry!  Why,  man,  I've  got  to  lay 
alongside  the  Lakeville  pier  by  Wednesday 
night,  or  break  something.  What's  the  matter 
with  you,  anyhow  ?  Lost  your  nerve  ?  " 

"  No,  I  ain't  lost  my  nerve.  And  you 
ain't  got  no  call  to  talk  that  way  to  me,  Dick 
Smiley." 

"  Here,  here,  Pete,  none  of  that.  We're 
going  to  pull  out  in  just  about  two  minutes. 
If  you  aren't  good  for  it,  I'll  wait  long  enough 
to  tumble  your  slops  ashore.  Put  your  mind 
on  it  now  —  are  you  coming  or  not?  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  comin',  Cap'n,  of  course,  but  —  " 

"  Shut  up,  then." 

The  idlers  on  the  wharf  had  not  heard  what 
was  said,  but  they  saw  Roche  change  color 
and  duck  below  for  another  pull  at  his  flask. 

The  tug  swung  out  into  the  stream ;  the 
Merry  Anne  fell  slowly  away  from  the  wharf. 

"  Call  up  those  loafers,  Pete,"  shouted 
Smiley,  as  he  rested  his  hands  on  the  wheel. 
The  two  sailors,  roused  by  a  shake  and  an 
oath,  scrambled  drowsily  upon  the  deck  with 
red  eyes  and  unsettled  nerves,  and  were  set 
to  work  raising  the  jib  and  double-reefing 
foresail  and  mainsail.  Captain  Peters  sounded 


26  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

three  blasts  for  the  first  bridge,  and  headed 
down-stream. 

Passing  on  through  the  narrow  draws  of  the 
bridges  and  between  the  buildings  that  lined 
the  river,  the  Merry  Anne  drew  near  to  the 
long  piers  that  formed  the  entrance  to  the 
channel.  And  Roche,  standing  with  flushed 
face  by  the  foremast,  looked  out  over  the  piers 
at  the  angry  lake,  now  a  lead-gray  color,  here 
streaked  with  foam,  there  half  obscured  by  the 
driving  squalls.  His  eyes  followed  the  track 
of  one  squall  after  another  as  they  tore  their 
way  at  right  angles  to  the  surf. 

Already  the  Anne  had  begun  to  stagger. 
At  the  end  of  the  towing  hawser  the  tug  was 
nosing  into  the  half-spent  rollers  that  got  in 
between  the  piers,  and  was  tossing  the  spray 
up  into  the  wind. 

One  of  the  life-saving  crew,  in  shining  oil 
skins,  was  walking  the  pier;  he  paused  and 
looked  at  them  —  even  called  out  some  words 
that  the  wind  took  from  his  lips  and  mock 
ingly  swept  away.  Roche  looked  at  him  with 
dull  eyes ;  saw  his  lips  moving  behind  his 
hollowed  hands ;  looked  out  again  at  the 
muddy  streaks  and  the  whirling  mist,  out 


DICK   AND    HIS  MERRY  ANNE       27 

beyond  at  the  two  barges  laboring  on  the 
horizon,  gazed  at  the  white  and  yellow  surf. 
Then  his  eye  lighted  a  little,  and  he  made  his 
way  back  to  the  wheel. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Dick,"  he  shouted.  "  Just 
look  a'  that  and  tell  me  you  can  make  it.  I 
know  better.  I'm  an  old  friend,  Dick,  and  I 
like  you  better'n  anybody,  but  you  mustn't 
be  a  dam'  fool.  Ain't  no  use  bein'  a  dam'  fool." 

"  Who  are  you  talking  to  ?  " 

"  Lemme  blow  the  horn,  Dick.  'Taint  too 
late  to  stop  'em.  We  can  get  back  all 
right  —  start  in  the  mornin'.  Don't  you  see, 
Dick  —  " 

Smiley's  eyes  were  fixed  keenly  on  him  for 
a  moment;  then  they  swept  to  the  windward 
pier.  He  snatched  the  horn  from  Roche's 
hand  and  blew  a  blast. 

The  sailors  up  forward  heard  it,  and  shouted 
and  waved  their  arms.  A  tug  hand,  seeing  the 
commotion,  though  he  heard  nothing,  finally 
was  made  to  understand,  and  Captain  Peters 
slowed  his  engines.  Smiley,  meanwhile,  was 
steering  up  close  to  the  windward  pier. 

"Tumble  off  there,  Pete,"  he  ordered. 
"Quick,  now." 


28  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

"  What  you  going  to  do  to  me  ?  Ain't 
goin'  to  put  me  off  there,  are  you  ? " 

"  Get  a  move  on,  or  I'll  throw  you  off. 
There's  no  room  for  you  here." 

"  Hold  on  there,  Dick  ;  I  ain't  got  no  clothes 
or  nothin'.  And  you  owe  me  my  pay  —  " 

"You'll  have  to  go  to  Cap'n  Stenzenberger 
about  that.  Here,  Pink,  heave  him  off.  Quick, 
now ! " 

"  Don't  you  lay  your  hand  on  me,  Pink 
Harper  —  " 

But  the  words  were  lost.  The  young  sailor 
in  the  red  shirt  fairly  pitched  him  over  the  rail. 
The  life  saver,  running  alongside,  gave  him  a 
hand.  Captain  Peters  was  leaning  out  impa 
tiently  from  his  wheel-house  door,  and  now  at 
the  signal  he  dove  back  and  hurriedly  rang 
for  full  steam  ahead ;  it  was  no  place  to  run 
chances.  And  as  the  schooner  passed  out  into 
the  open  lake,  leaving  the  lighthouse  behind 
her,  and  soon  afterward  casting  off  the  tug, 
there  was  no  time  to  look  back  at  the  raging 
figure  on  the  pier.  Though  once,  to  be  sure, 
Dick  had  turned  with  a  laugh  and  shouted  out 
a  few  lines  of  a  wild  parody  on  the  song  of  the 
day,  "  Baby  Mine." 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRY  ANNE       29 
* 
The   song    proved   so  amusing   that,  when 

they  were  free  of  the  tug  and  were  careening 
gayly  off  to  the  southwest  with  all  fast  on 
board  and  a  boiling  sea  around  them,  he  took 
it  up  again.  And  braced  at  a  sharp  angle 
with  the  deck,  one  eye  on  the  sails,  another 
cast  to  windward,  his  brown  hands  knotted 
around  the  spokes  of  the  wheel,  he  sang  away 
at  the  top  of  his  lungs  :  — 

"  He  is  coming  down  the  Rhine. 
With  a  bellyful  of  wine." 

Young  Harper  worked  his  way  aft  along  the 
upper  rail.  His  eye  fell  on  the  figure  of  his 
captain,  and  he  laughed  and  nodded. 

"  Lively  goin',  Cap'n." 

Lively  it  certainly  was. 

"  Guess  there  ain't  no  doubt  about  our 
makin'  it!" 

"  Doubt  your  uncle ! "  roared  the  Captain. 
And  he  winked  at  his  young  admirer. 

"  Guess  Mr.  Roche  didn't  like  the  looks 
of  it." 

"Guess  not." 

Harper  crept  forward  again.  And  Smiley, 
with  a  laugh  in  his  eye,  squared  his  chest  to 


30  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

the  storm,  and  thought  of  the  necklace  stowed 
away  in  the  cabin  ;  and  then  he  thought  of  her 
who  was  to  be  its  owner  day  after  to-morrow, 
and  "  I  wonder  if  we  will  make  it,"  thought 
he;  "I  wonder!" 

And  make  it  they  did.  Sliding  gayly  up 
into  a  humming  southwest  wind,  with  every 
rag  up  and  the  sheets  hauled  home,  with  the 
bluest  of  skies  above  them  and  the  bluest  of 
water  beneath  (for  the  Lakes  play  at  April 
weather  all  around  the  calendar),  Wednesday 
afternoon  found  them  turning  Grosse  Pointe. 

The  bright  new  paint  was  prematurely  old 
now,  the  small  boat  was  missing  from  the  stern 
davits,  the  cabin  windows  had  been  crushed  in, 
and  one  sailor  carried  his  arm  in  a  sling,  but 
they  had  made  it.  Harper,  hollow-eyed,  but 
merry,  had  the  wheel ;  Smiley  was  below, 
snatching  his  first  nap  in  forty-eight  hours, 
with  the  red  corals  under  his  head. 

"  Ole,"  called  Harper,  "  wake  up  the  Cap'n, 
will  you  ?  I  can't  leave  the  wheel.  He  said 
we  was  to  call  him  off  Grosse  Pointe." 

So  Ole  called  him,  and  was  soon  followed 
back  on  deck  by  another  hollow-eyed  figure. 

"Guess  it's  just  as  well   Mr.   Roche   didn't 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRY  ANNE       31 

come  along,"  observed  the  boy,  as  he  relin 
quished  the  wheel.  "  Hed  'a'  had  all  he 
wanted,  and  no  mistake." 

"He  had  enough  to  start  with.  There 
wasn't  any  room  for  drunks  this  trip." 

As  he  spoke,  Smiley  was  running  his  eye 
over  the  familiar  yellow  bluffs,  glancing  at  the 
lighthouse  tower,  at  the  stack  of  the  water 
works  farther  down  the  coast,  at  the  green 
billows  of  foliage  with  here  and  there  a  spire 
rising  above  them,  and,  last  and  longest,  at  the 
two  piers  that  reached  far  out  into  the  Lake,  — 
one  black  with  coal  sheds,  the  other  and  nearer, 
yellow  with  new  lumber. 

Between  these  piers,  built  in  the  curve  of 
the  beach  and  nestling  under  the  bluff,  was  a 
curious  patchwork  of  a  house.  Built  of  odds 
and  ends  of  lumber,  even,  in  the  rear,  of  drift 
wood,  perched  up  on  piles  so  that  the  higher 
waves  might  run  up  under  the  kitchen  floor, 
small  wonder  that  the  youngsters  of  the  shore 
had  dubbed  it  "  the  house  on  stilts." 

Old  Captain  Fargo  (and  who  was  not  a 
"  Captain "  in  those  days !)  had  built  it  with 
his  own  hands,  just  as  he  had  built  every  one 
of  the  sailboats  and  rowboats  that  strewed  the 


32  THE  MERRT  ANNE 

beach,  and  had  woven  every  one  of  the  nets 
that  were  wound  on  reels  up  there  under  the 
bluff. 

A  surprisingly  spacious  old  house  it  was, 
too,  with  a  room  for  Annie  upstairs  on  the 
Lake  side,  looking  out  on  a  porch  that  was 
just  large  enough  to  hold  her  pots  and  boxes 
of  geraniums  and  nasturtiums  and  forget-me- 
nots. 

Smiley  could  not  see  the  house  yet ;  it  was 
hidden  by  the  lumber  piles  on  the  pier.  But 
his  eyes  knew  where  to  look,  and  they  lingered 
there,  all  the  while  that  his  sailor's  sixth  sense 
was  watching  the  set  of  the  sails  and  the 
scudding  ripples  that  marked  the  wind  puffs. 
He  wore  a  clean  red  shirt  to-day  and  a  necker 
chief  that  lay  in  even  folds  around  his  neck. 
Redolent  of  soap  he  was,  his  face  and  hands 
scrubbed  until  they  shone.  And  still  his  eyes 
tried  to  look  through  fifty  feet  of  lumber  to 
the  little  flowering  porch,  until  a  sail  came  in 
sight  around  the  end  of  the  pier.  Then  he 
straightened  up,  and  shifted  his  grip  on  the 
spokes. 

The  small  boat  was  also  blue  with  a  white 
stripe.  At  the  stern  sat  a  single  figure.  But 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRY  ANNE       33 

though  they  were  still  too  far  apart  to  distin 
guish  features,  Dick  knew  that  the  figure  was 
that  of  a  girl  —  a  girl  of  a  fine,  healthy  carriage, 
her  face  tanned  an  even  brown,  and  a  laugh  in 
her  black  eyes.  He  knew,  even  before  he 
brought  his  glass  to  bear  on  her,  that  she  was' 
dressed  in  a  blue  sailor  suit,  with  a  rolling  blue- 
and-white  collar  cut  V-shape  and  giving  a 
glimpse  of  her  round  brown  neck.  He  knew 
that  her  black  hair  was  gathered  simply  with  a 
ribbon  and  left  to  hang  about  her  shoulders, 
that  her  arms  were  bared  to  the  elbow.  He 
could  see  that  she  was  carrying  a  few  yards 
more  sail  than  was  safe  for  a  catboat  in  that 
breeze,  and  there  was  a  laugh  in  his  own  eyes 
as  he  shook  his  head  over  her  recklessness. 
He  knew  that  it  would  do  no  good  to  speak  to 
her  about  it ;  and  her  father  and  mother  had 
never  been  able  to  look  upon  her  with  any  but 
fond,  foolish  eyes. 

Steadily  the  Merry  Anne  drew  in  toward  the 
pier ;  rapidly  the  Captain  —  so  Annie  called 
her  boat  —  came  bobbing  and  skimming  out  to 
meet  her.  A  few  moments  more  and  Dick 
could  wave  his  hat  and  shout,  "  Ahoy,  there  !  " 
And  he  heard  in  reply,  as  he  had  known  that 


34  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

he  should,  a  merry  "  Ahoy,  there  !  I'll  beat 
you  in  !  "  And  then  they  raced  for  it,  Annie 
gaining,  as  she  generally  could,  while  the 
schooner  was  laboriously  coming  about,  and 
working  in  slowly  under  reduced  sail.  She 
ran  in  close  to  the  pier,  came  up  into  the  wind, 
and  waited  there  while  the  crew  were  making 
the  schooner  fast. 

At  length  the  stevedores  started  unloading 
the  lumber  and  Dick  was  free.  He  leaned  on  the 
rail  and  looked  down  at  Annie  who  had  by  this 
time  come  alongside ;  and  he  saw  that  she  had 
a  bunch  of  blue-and-white  forget-me-nots  in 
her  hair. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  looking  up,  and  driving 
all  power  of  consecutive  thought  out  of  Dick's 
head,  as  she  always  did  when  she  rested  her 
black  eyes  full  on  his,  "  well,  I  beat  you." 

"Take  me  aboard,  Annie.  I've  got  some 
thing  for  you." 

"  All  right,  come  down.  You  can  take  the 
sheet." 

Dick  pushed  off  from  the  schooner's  side 
and  the  Captain  filled  away  toward  the  shore. 

"  Hold  on,  Annie,  come  about.  I  don't 
have  to  go  in  yet." 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRT  ANNE       35 

"  Where  do  you  want  to  go  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  —  run  out  a  little  way." 

Annie  brought  her  about  and  Dick  watched 
her  with  admiring  eyes.  "  Well,  now,"  he  be 
gan,  as  they  settled  down  for  a  run  off  the 
wind,  "  I  didn't  know  whether  I  was  going 
to  get  here  to-day  or  not." 

"It  was  pretty  bad." 

"You  were  thinking  of  me,  weren't  you, 
Annie  ? " 

She  smiled  and  gave  her  attention  to  the 
boat. 

"  Roche  was  drunk,  and  I  had  to  leave  him 
at  Manistee." 

"You  didn't  come  down  shorthanded,  did 
you,  Dick,  —  in  that  storm  ?  " 

He  nodded. 

"  But  how  ?  You  couldn't  have  got  much 
sleep." 

"  I  didn't  get  any  till  this  noon." 

"  Now,  that's  just  like  you,  Dick,  always 
running  risks  when  you  don't  have  to." 

"  But  I  did  have  to." 

"  I  don't  see  why." 

"  What  day's  to-day  ?" 

A    mischievous   light   came   into    her   eyes, 


36  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

but  her  face  was  demure.  "  Wednesday,"  she 
replied. 

"Yes,  I  knew  that." 

"  Why  did  you  ask  me,  then  ? " 

"  Oh,  Annie,  Annie  !  When  are  you  going 
to  stop  talking  that  way  ? " 

Again  the  boat  claimed  all  her  attention. 
He  leaned  forward  and  dropped  his  voice. 

"  Don't  you  think  I've  waited  most  long 
enough,  Annie  ? " 

"  Now,  Dick,  be  sensible." 

"  But  haven't  I  been  sensible  ?  Not  a  word 
have  I  said  for  two  months.  And  I  told  you 
then  I  would  speak  on  your  birthday." 

"  So  you  really  remembered  my  birth 
day  ? " 

"  Remembered  it,  Annie  !  What  a  girl  you 
are  !  Do  you  know  how  long  I've  been  wait 
ing  ?  And  all  the  boys  laughing  ?  It's  two 
years  this  month.  It  was  on  your  birthday 
that  I  saw  you  first,  you  know.  And  it  wasn't 
a  month  after  that  that  I  spoke  to  you.  How 
could  I  help  it  ?  Who  could  have  waited 
longer  ?  And  you,  with  your  way  of  making 
me  think  you  were  really  going  to  say  yes, 
and  then  just  laughing  at  me." 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRY  ANNE       37 

"  Now,  Dick  —  if  you  don't  stop  and  be 
sensible,  I'll  take  you  straight  inshore." 

"  Oh,  you  wouldn't  do  that,  Annie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  would.     I  will  now.     Ready  about !  " 

The  Captain  came  rapidly  up  into  the  wind, 
but  stopped  there  with  sail  flapping ;  for  Dick 
held  the  sheet,  and  his  hand  had  imprisoned 
hers  on  the  tiller. 

"  Now,  Dick  —  Dick  —  " 

"  Wait  a  minute.  Don't  be  angry  with  me 
when  I've  risked  the  schooner  and  everybody 
aboard  her  just  so's  to  get  down  here  on  your 
birthday.  Promise  me  you'll  hold  her  in  the 
wind  while  I  get  you  your  present." 

She  hesitated,  and  looked  out  toward  the 
horizon. 

"  Promise  me  that,  Annie,  and  I'll  let  go 
your  hand." 

"You  —  you've  forgotten — what  you  prom 
ised—" 

"  I  know,  I  said  I'd  never  take  hold  of  your 
hand  again  until  you  put  it  in  mine — didn't 
I?" 

She  nodded,  still  looking  away. 

"  And  I've  broken  the  promise.  Do  you 
know  why,  Annie  ?  It's  because  when  you 


38  THE    MERRT  ANNE 

look  at  me  the  way  you  do  sometimes,  I  could 
break  every  promise  I've  ever  made  —  and 
every  law  of  Congress  if  I  thought  it  would 
just  keep  you  looking  at  me." 

Not  a  word  from  Annie. 

"  Promise  me,  Annie,  that  you'll  hold  her 
here  ? " 

Still  no  word. 

"  Won't  you  just  nod,  then  ?  " 

She  hesitated  a  moment  longer,  then  gave 
one  uncertain  little  nod.  He  released  her 
hand,  held  the  sheet  between  his  knees,  drew 
the  package  from  his  pocket,  and  displayed 
the  corals.  She  was  trying  bravely  not  to  look 
around,  but  her  glance  wavered,  and  finally 
she  turned  and  looked  at  it  with  eager  eyes. 

"  Oh,  Dick,  did  you  bring  that  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  surely  did."  He  held  it  up,  and  when 
she  bent  her  head  forward,  he  slipped  it  over 
and  around  her  neck.  Her  eyes  shone  as  she 
ran  the  red  beads  through  her  fingers  and 
looked  at  the  carved  pendant.  Dick  leaned 
back  and  watched  her  contentedly.  Finally 
she  let  her  eyes  steal  upward  and  meet  his, 
with  a  smile  that  was  half  roguish.  "  I  never 
really  laughed  at  you,  did  I,  Dick  ? " 


DICK   AND    HIS   MERRT  4NNE      39 

He  moved  forward  with  sudden  eagerness. 
"  Don't  you  think  now  is  a  good  time  to  say 
yes,  Annie,  —  now,  on  your  birthday  ?  I  own 
a  quarter  of  the  schooner  now,  you  know ;  and 
I'm  ready  to  make  another  payment  to-mor 
row.  And  don't  you  see,  when  we're  married 
you  can  help  me  to  save,  and  before  we  know  it 
we  can  have  a  home  and  a  business  of  our  own." 

She  was  bending  over  the  corals.  "  You 
didn't  really  think  you  could  save  more  with 
—  with  me,  than  you  could  alone,  did  you, 
Dick  ? " 

"Yes,  I'm  sure  of  it.  It  will  give  me  some 
thing  to  work  for,  don't  you  see  ? " 

"  But  —  but  —  "  very  shyly,  this  — 
"  Haven't  you  anything  to  work  for  now  ? " 

"  Oh,  Annie,  do  you  mean  that  —  are  you 
telling  me  you'll  give  me  the  right  to  work  for 
you  ?  That's  all  I  want  to  know." 

"  Now,  Dick  —  please  let  go  my  hand  — 
you  promised,  you  know  —  " 

"  What  is  a  promise  now !  If  you  knew 
how  you  torture  me  when  you  lead  me  on  till 
I'm  half  wild  and  then  change  around  till  I 
don't  know  what  I've  said  or  what  you've  said 
or  hardly  who  I  am  —  " 


40  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

"No,  Dick,  you  mustn't  —  I  mean  it.  We 
must  go  in.  See,  there's  father  on  the  beach. 
It  must  be  supper-time." 

"  Wait  a  minute  —  I  haven't  half  told 
you  —  " 

But  she  was  merciless.  The  Captain  came 
about  and  headed  shoreward. 

"  Did  you  meet  the  revenue  cutter  any 
where  up  the  Lake  —  the  Foote?  She  was 
here  yesterday." 

"  There  you  are  again,  all  changed  around ! 
What  do  I  care  about  the  Foote  —  when  I'm  just 
waiting  to  hear  you  say  the  only  word  that  can 
make  my  life  worth  living.  Now,  Annie  —  " 

"You  mustn't,  Dick.  I've  let  you  say  too 
much  now.  If  you  go  on,  you'll  make  me  feel 
that  I  can't  even  thank  you  for  your  present." 

"  Was  that  all  ?  Were  you  only  thanking 
me?" 

She  nodded,  and  Dick's  face  fell  into  gloom. 
But  when  the  Captain  was  beached,  and  Annie 
had  leaped  lightly  over  the  rail,  she  turned  and 
gave  him  one  merry  blushing  look  that  com 
pletely  reversed  the  effect  of  her  reproof.  And 
as  she  hurried  up  to  the  house,  he  could  only 
gaze  after  her  helplessly. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    NEW    MATE 


CHAPTER    II 

THE    NEW    MATE 

IN  the  morning  the  William  Schmidt,  Henry 
Smiley,  Master,  came  in  from  Chicago  and 
tied  up  across  the  pier  from  the  Merry  Anne. 

Henry,  Dick's  cousin,  was  a  short,  stocky, 
man,  said  to  be  somewhat  of  a  driver  with 
his  sailors.  He  seldom  had  much  to  say, 
never  drank,  was  shrewd  at  a  bargain,  and  was 
supposed  to  have  a  considerable  sum  stowed 
away  in  the  local  savings  bank.  Though  he 
was  wanting  in  the  qualities  that  made  his 
younger  cousin  popular,  he  was  daring  enough 
in  his  quiet  way,  and  he  had  been  known, 
when  he  thought  the  occasion  justified  it,  to 
run  long  chances  with  his  snub-nosed  schooner. 

After  breakfast  Dick  walked  across  the  broad 
pier  between  the  piles  of  lumber,  and  found 
Henry  in  his  cabin.  They  greeted  each  other 
cordially. 

43 


44  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Sit  down,"  said  Henry.  "  Did  you  come 
down  through  that  nor'wester?" 

Dick  nodded. 

"  Have  any  trouble  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no.  Lost  some  sleep  —  that's  all. 
You  aren't  going  down  to  the  yards  to-day, 
are  you  ? " 

«  Yes  —  I  think  likely.     Why  ?  " 

"  I'll  go  along  with  you.  I'm  ready  to 
make  another  payment  on  the  schooner.  I've 
been  thinking  it  over,  and  it  strikes  me  I'm 
paying  about  three  times  what  she's  worth. 
What  do  you  think  ?  Would  it  do  any  harm 
to  have  a  little  talk  about  it  with  the  Cap'n  ? 
You  know  him  better  than  I  do." 

Henry  shook  his  head.  "  I  wouldn't.  He 
is  too  smart  for  you.  He  will  beat  you  any 
way  you  try  it,  and  have  you  thanking  him 
before  he  is  through  with  you.  I  have  gone 
all  over  this  ground  before,  you  know.  Of 
course  he  is  an  old  rascal  —  but  I  don't  know 
of  any  other  way  you  could  even  get  an  interest 
in  a  schooner.  You  see,  you  haven't  any  capi 
tal.  He  will  give  you  all  the  time  you  want, 
and  I  don't  know  but  what  he's  entitled  to  a 
little  extra,  everything  considered.  But  don't 


THE   NEW   MATE  45 

say  anything,  whatever  you  do.  You've  got 
too  good  a  thing  here." 

"  You  think  I  ought  to  just  shut  up  and  let 
him  bleed  me  ?  " 

"  He  isn't  bleeding  you.  Just  think  it  over, 
Dick.  You  are  making  a  living,  and  you 
already  have  a  quarter  interest  in  your 
schooner.  You  couldn't  ask  much  more  at 
your  age.  Have  you  heard  from  him  yet,  by 
the  way  ?  " 

«  No." 

"He  spoke  to  me  the  other  day  about 
wanting  to  see  you  when  you  came  in. 
There's  another  order  to  come  down  from 
Spencer." 

"Where's  that?" 

"  Up  in  the  Alpena  country." 

"  Lake  Huron,  eh  ?  Oh  —  isn't  that  where 
you  went  in  the  spring  ?  " 

"Yes,  I've  been  there.  An  old  fellow 
named  Spencer  runs  a  Jittle  one-horse  mill, 
and  he's  selling  timber  and  shingles.  And 
from  what  the  Cap'n  said,  I  don't  think  he'd 
care  if  you  brought  along  a  little  venture 
of  your  own.  That's  the  way  I  used  to  do, 
when  I  was  paying  for  the  Schmidt" 


46  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

"How  could  I  do  that?" 

"  Spencer  will  give  you  a  little  credit.  You 
can  stow  away  a  few  thousand  feet,  and  clear 
twenty  or  thirty  dollars.  It  helps  along." 

"All  right,  I'll  try  it.  Are  you  sure  the  old 
man  won't  care? " 

"  Oh,  yes.  He's  willing  enough  to  do  the 
square  thing,  so  long  as  it  keeps  us  feeling 
good  and  doesn't  lose  him  anything." 

"Say  —  there's  another  thing,  Henry.  I 
fired  Roche,  up  at  Manistee." 

"  Fired  him  ?  "  Henry's  brows  came  to 
gether. 

"  Yes,  I  had  to.  I  had  stood  him  as  long 
as  I  could." 

"  I  don't  know  what  the  Cap'n  will  say 
about  that." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  what  he  can  say.  I  was 
in  command." 

"Yes,  I  know  —  of  course  you  had  a  right 
to ;  but  the  thing  is  to  keep  on  his  good  side. 
Suppose  we  go  right  down  to  the  yards,  and 
see  if  you  can  get  your  story  in  before 
Roche's." 

"  What  does  the  Cap'n  care  about  my  men, 
I'd  like  to  know  !  " 


Henry   Smiley. 


THE   NEW   MATE  47 

"  Now,  keep  cool,  Dick.  Roche,  you  see, 
used  to  work  for  him,  —  I  don't  know  but  what 
they're  related,  —  and  it  was  because  the  Cap'n 
spoke  to  me  about  him  that  I  recommended 
him  to  you  when  I  did.  And  look  here, 
Dick,"  —  Henry  smiled  as  he  laid  a  hand  on 
his  cousin's  shoulder,  —  "I'm  a  good  deal 
older  than  you  are,  and  you  can  take  my 
word  for  it.  Don't  get  sour  on  things.  Of 
course  people  will  do  you  if  they  can ;  but  it's 
human  nature,  and  you  can't  change  it  by 
growling  about  it.  You  are  doing  well,  and 
what  you  need  now  is  to  keep  your  eyes  open 
and  your  mouth  shut.  Why  should  you  want 
to  hurry  things  along  ?  " 

A  flush  came  over  Dick's  face.  "  There's  a 
reason  all  right  enough.  You  see,  Henry, 
there's  a  little  girl  not  so  very  many  miles 
from  here  —  " 

"Oho!"  thought  Henry,  "a  little  girl!" 
But  his  face  was  immobile,  excepting  a  mo 
mentary  curious  expression  that  passed  over  it. 

"  Now  don't  get  to  thinking  it's  all  fixed 
up,  because  it  isn't  —  not  yet.  But  you  see, 
I've  been  thinking  that  when  I've  got  a  little 
something  to  offer  —  " 


48  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

"  There's  another  thing  you  can  take  my 
word  for,  my  boy,"  said  Henry,  with  a  dry 
smile ;  "  don't  get  impetuous.  Marrying 
may  be  all  right,  but  it  wants  to  be  done 
careful." 

Captain  Stenzenberger's  lumber  yard  was  a 
few  miles  away,  at  the  Chicago  city  limits.  As 
the  two  sailors  left  the  pier  to  walk  up  to  the 
railway  station,  Dick  was  glad  to  change  the 
subject  for  the  first  one  that  came  into  his 
head.  "  What  do  you  suppose  the  Foote  has 
been  doing  here  this  week,  Dick  ?  I  heard  she 
put  in  Tuesday  or  Wednesday." 

"  Looking  for  Whiskey  Jim,  I  suppose." 
"  Oh,  are  they  on  that  track  again  ?  " 
"  Haven't  you  seen  the  papers  ?  " 
"  No  —  not  for  more  than  a  week." 
"  Well,  it's  quite  a   yarn.     From  what  has 
been  said,  I  rather  guess  it's  the  liquor  dealers 
that    are    stirring    it    up    this   time.     There  is 
a  story  around  that    he  has  been  counterfeit 
ing  the  red-seal  label  on  their  bottles.     I  think 
they're  all    off  the   track,  though.     Anybody 
could    tell    'em    that    there's     no    such     man. 
Every  time    a   case    of   smuggling  comes  up, 
the    papers    talk    about    '  Whiskey    Jim,'    no 


THE   NEW    MATE  49 

matter  if  it's  up  at  the  straits  or  down  on 
the  St.  Lawrence." 

"  But  what's  the  trouble  now  ? " 

"  Oh,  they're  saying  that  this  fellow  is  a 
rich  man  that  has  a  big  smuggling  system 
with  agents  all  around  the  Lakes  and  dealers 
in  the  cities  that  are  in  his  pay,  —  sort  of  a 
smuggling  trust." 

"  Sounds  like  a  fairy  story." 

"  That's  about  what  it  is.  The  regular 
dealers  have  taken  up  the  fight  to  protect 
their  trade,  and  one  or  two  of  the  papers  in 
particular  have  put  reporters  on  the  case,  and 
all  that  sort  of  thing.  And  as  usual  they're 
announcing  just  what  they've  done  and  what 
they're  going  to  do.  The  old  Foote  is  to 
make  a  tour  of  the  Lakes,  and  look  into  every 
port.  And  if  there  is  any  Whiskey  Jim,  I'll 
bet  he's  somewhere  over  in  Canada  by  this 
time,  reading  the  papers  and  laughing  at  'em." 

Captain  Stenzenberger  was  seated  in  his 
swivel  chair  in  his  dingy  little  one-story  office 
at  the  corner  of  the  lumber  yard.  His  broad 
frame  was  overloaded  with  flesh.  His  paunch 
seemed  almost  to  rest  on  his  thighs  as  he  sat 
there,  chewing  an  unlighted  cigar  in  the  corner 


50  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

of  his  mouth,  —  a  corner  that  had  been  moulded 
around  the  cigar  by  long  habit  and  that  looked 
incomplete  when  the  cigar  was  not  there.  His 
fat  neck  —  the  fatter  for  a  large  goitre  —  was 
wider  than  his  cheeks,  and  these  again  were 
wider  than  his  forehead,  so  that  his  head 
seemed  to  taper  off  from  his  shoulders.  A 
cropped  mustache,  a  tanned,  wrinkled  face 
and  forehead,  and  bright  brown  eyes  completed 
the  picture.  When  his  two  captains  came  in, 
he  rested  his  pudgy  hands  on  the  arms  of  his 
chair,  readjusted  his  lips  around  the  cigar,  and 
nodded.  "  How  are  you,  boys  ?  "  said  he,  in 
a  husky  voice.  "  Have  a  good  trip  r "  This 
last  remark  was  addressed  to  Dick. 

"  First  part  was  bad,  but  it  cleared  up  later." 

"  Did  you  put  right  out  into  that  storm  from 
Manistee  ? " 

"  Yes  —  you  see  I  had  the  wind  behind  me 
all  the  way  down.  Got  to  get  a  new  small 
boat,  though." 

The  "  Captain "  did  not  press  the  subject. 
In  return  for  the  privilege  of  buying  the 
schooner  by  instalments  he  permitted  Dick 
to  pay  for  the  insurance,  so  the  young  man 
could  be  as  reckless  as  he  liked. 


THE   NEW   MATE  51 

Dick  now  explained  that  he  had  come  to 
make  a  payment,  and  the  transaction  was 
accomplished. 

"  Step  over  and  have  a  drink,  boys,"  was 
the  next  formality ;  and  the  two  stood  aside 
while  Stenzenberger  got  his  unwieldy  body 
out  of  the  chair,  put  on  his  hat,  and  led  the 
way  out. 

Adjoining  the  lumber  yard  on  the  west  was 
a  small  frame  building,  bearing  the  sign,  "  The 
Teamster's  Friend."  It  had  been  set  down 
here  presumably  to  catch  the  trade  of  the 
market  gardeners  who  rumbled  through  in  the 
small  hours  of  every  morning.  In  the  rear, 
backed  up  against  a  lumber  pile,  was  a  long 
shed  where  the  teams  could  wait  under  cover 
while  their  drivers  were  carousing  within.  A 
second  sign,  painted  on  the  end  of  this  shed, 
announced  that  Murphy  and  McGlory  were 
the  proprietors  of  the  "  sample  room  and 
summer  garden."  The  three  men  entered, 
and  seated  themselves  at  a  table.  There  was 
no  one  behind  the  bar  at  the  moment,  but 
soon  a  woman  glanced  in  through  the  rear 
doorway. 

Stenzenberger  smiled   broadly  on   her,  and 


52  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

winked.  "  How  d'  do,  Madge,"  he  said. 
"  Can't  you  give  us  a  little  something  with 
a  smile  in  it,  —  one  o'  your  smiles  maybe 
now?" 

She  was  a  tall  woman,  with  a  full  figure 
and  snapping  eyes,  —  attractive,  in  spite  of  a 
crow's-foot  wrinkle  or  so.  She  returned  the 
smile,  wearily,  and  said,  "  I'll  call  Joe,  Mr. 
Stenzenberger." 

"  You  needn't  do  that  now,  Madge.  Draw 
it  with  those  pretty  hands  of  yours,  there's  a 
dear." 

So  she  came  in  behind  the  bar,  wiping  her 
hands  on  her  apron,  and  quietly  awaited  their 
orders. 

"What'llitbe,  boys?" 

Dick  suggested  a  glass  of  beer,  but  Henry 
smiled  and  shook  his  head.  "  You  might 
make  it  ginger  ale  for  me." 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  do  with  that  cousin 
of  yours,"  said  Stenzenberger  to  Dick.  "  He's 
a  queer  one.  I  don't  like  to  trust  a  man  that's 
got  no  vices.  What  are  your  vices,  anyhow, 
Smiley  ? " 

Henry  smiled  again.  "Ask  Dick,  there. 
He  ought  to  know  all  about  me." 


THE   NEW    MATE  53 

Stenzenberger  looked  from  one  to  the  other ; 
then  he  raised  his  foaming  glass,  and  with  a 
"  Prosit "  and  a  stiff  German  nod,  he  put  it 
down  at  a  gulp. 

"  Been  reading  about  the  revenue  case  ? " 
Henry  asked  of  his  superior. 

"  I  saw  something  this  morning." 

"  I've  been  quite  interested  in  it.  Billy 
Boynton  told  me  yesterday  that  they  had 
searched  his  schooner.  It's  a  wonder  they 
haven't  got  after  us  if  they're  holding  up  fel 
lows  like  him.  Do  you  think  they'll  ever  get 
this  Whiskey  Jim,  Cap'n  ? " 

"  No,  they  talk  too  much.  And  they  couldn't 
catch  a  mud-scow  with  that  old  side-wheeler  of 
theirs." 

"  Guess  that's  right.  The  Foote  must  have 
started  in  here  before  the  Michigan,  and  she's 
thirty  years  old  if  she's  a  day.  The  boys  are 
all  talking  about  it  down  at  the  city.  I  dropped 
around  at  the  Hydrographic  Office  after  I  saw 
Billy,  and  found  two  or  three  others  that  had 
been  hauled  over.  It  seems  they've  stumbled 
on  a  pipe-line  half  built  under  the  Detroit 
River  near  Wyandotte,  and  there's  been  a  good 
deal  of  excitement.  There's  capital  behind  it, 


54  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

you  see ;  and  a  little  capital  does  wonders  with 
those  revenue  men." 

Stenzenberger  was  showing  symptoms  of 
readiness  to  return  to  his  desk,  but  Henry, 
who  rarely  grew  reminiscent,  was  now  fairly 
launched. 

"  They  can't  get  an  effective  revenue  system, 
because  they  make  it  too  easy  for  a  man  to  get 
rich.  It's  like  the  tax  commissioners  and  the 
aldermen  and  the  legislators,  —  when  you  put 
a  man  where  he  can  rake  off  his  pile,  month 
after  month,  without  there  being  any  way  of 
checking  him  up,  look  out  for  his  morals. 
And  where  they're  all  in  it  together,  no  one 
dares  squeal.  It's  a  good  deal  like  the  railway 
conductors. 

"  You  remember  last  year  when  the  North 
eastern  Road  laid  off  all  but  two  or  three  of 
its  old  conductors  for  stealing  fares  ?  Well,  it 
wasn't  a  month  afterward  that  one  of  the  c  hon 
est  '  ones  came  to  me  and  hired  the  Schmidt  to 
carry  a  twelve-hundred-dollar  grand  piano  up 
to  Milwaukee,  where  he  lives.  He  had  rea 
sons  of  his  own  for  not  wanting  to  ship  by 
rail.  No,  sir,  it  wouldn't  be  hard  for  me  to 
have  sympathy  with  an  honest  thief  that  goes 


THE   NEW   MATE  55 

in  and  runs  his  chances  of  getting  shot  or 
knocked  on  the  head,  —  that  calls  for  some 
nerve,  —  but  these  fellows  that  put  up  a  bluff  as 
lawmakers  and  policemen  and  revenue  officers 
and  then  steal  right  and  left  —  deliver  me!" 

"Well,  boys,  I  guess  I'll  have  to  step  back. 
I'm  a  busy  man,  you  know.  Have  another 
before  we  go  ?  " 

"  One  minute,  Cap'n,"  said  Dick.  "  There's 
something  I  want  to  talk  over  with  you,  if  you 
can  spare  the  time." 

Stenzenberger  sat  down  again.  Henry, 
whose  outbreak  against  the  evils  of  society 
had  stirred  up,  apparently,  some  pet  feeling  of 
bitterness,  now  sat  moodily  looking  at  the  table. 

"  It's  about  Roche,  Cap'n,"  Dick  went  on. 
"  I  had  to  leave  him  at  Manistee." 

"Why?" 

"He  drinks  too  much  for  me  —  I  couldn't 
depend  on  him  a  minute.  He  bummed  around 
up  there,  and  got  himself  too  shaky  to  be  any 
use  to  me." 

Stenzenberger,  with  expressionless  face, 
chewed  his  cigar.  "  What  did  you  do  for 
a  mate?" 

"  Came  down  without  one." 


56  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Have  you  found  a  man  yet  ?  " 

"  No  —  haven't  tried.  I  thought  you  might 
have  some  one  you  could  suggest." 

"  I  don't  know.  You'll  want  to  be  start 
ing  up  to  Spencer's  place  in  a  day  or  so." 
He  chewed  his  cigar  thoughtfully  for  a  mo 
ment,  then  dropped  his  voice.  "  There's  a 
man  right  here  you  might  be  able  to  use. 
Do  you  know  McGlory  ?  " 

"  No." 

"You  do,  Henry?" 

"  Yes,  he  was  my  mate  for  a  year." 

"  Well,"  said  Dick,  "  any  man  that  suited 
Henry  for  a  year  ought  to  suit  me." 

"  You'll  find  him  a  good,  reliable  man," 
responded  Henry,  in  an  undertone.  "  He 
has  a  surly  temper,  but  he  knows  all  about 
a  schooner." 

"Well,  —  if  he's  anywhere  around  here  now, 
we  could  fix  it  right  up." 

Stenzenberger  looked  around.  The  woman 
had  slipped  out.  "  Madge,"  he  called ; 
"  Madge,  my  dear." 

She  entered  as  quietly  as  before. 

"  Come  in,  my  dear.  You  know  Cap'n 
Smiley,  don't  you?" 


THE   NEW   MATE  57 

No,  she  didn't.  . 

"  That's  a  fact.  He's  never  seen  in  sample 
rooms.  He  sets  up  to  be  better  than  the 
rest  of  us ;  but  I  say,  look  out  for  him.  And 
here's  his  cousin,  another  Cap'n  Smiley,  the 
handsomest  man  on  the  Lakes."  Dick 
blushed  at  this.  "  Sit  down  a  minute  with 
us." 

She  shook  her  head,  and  waited  for  him  to 
come  to  the  point. 

"  Where's  that  man  of  yours,  my  dear  ?  Is 
he  anywhere  around  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  you  want  of  him  ?  " 

"  I  want  him  to  know  our  young  man 
here.  I  think  they're  going  to  like  each 
other.  You  tell  him  we  want  to  see 
him." 

She  hesitated ;  then  with  a  suspicious  glance 
around  the  group  left  the  room. 

In  a  moment  McGlory  appeared,  a  short, 
heavy-set  man  with  high  cheek-bones,  a  low, 
sloping  forehead,  and  a  curling  black  mus 
tache.  He  nodded  to  Stenzenberger  and 
Henry,  and  glanced  at  Dick. 

"  Jo6/'  said  the  lumber  merchant,  "  shake 
hands  with  Cap'n  Dick  Smiley.  He's  the 


58  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

best  «ailor  between  here  and  Buffalo,  and 
the  only  trouble  with  him  is  we  can't  get  a 
mate  good  enough  for  him.  A  man's  got 
to  know  his  business  to  sail  with  Dick  Smiley. 
Ain't  that  so,  Henry?" 

"  I  guess  that's  right." 

"  And  Henry  tells  me  you're  the  man  that 
can  do  it." 

This  pleasantry  had  no  visible  effect  on 
McGlory.  He  was  looking  Dick  over. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,  Cap'n.  I 
promised  Madge  I'd  give  up  the  Lake  for 
good." 

"  The  Cap'n  here,"  pursued  Stenzenberger, 
"  is  going  to  start  to-morrow  or  next  day  for 
Spencer,  to  take  on  a  load  of  timber  and  shin 
gles."  His  small  brown  eyes  were  fixed  in 
tently  on  the  saloon  keeper  as  he  talked. 
"  And  I  think  we'll  have  to  keep  him  run 
ning  up  there  for  a  good  part  of  the  summer. 
Queer  character,  that  Spencer,"  he  added, 
addressing  Dick.  "  He  has  lived  all  his  life 
up  there  in  the  pines.  They  say  he  was  a 
squatter  —  never  paid  a  cent  for  his  land. 
But  he  has  been  there  so  many  years  now, 
I  guess  any  one  would  have  trouble  getting 


THE   NEW    MATE  59 

him  out.  He  has  got  an  idea  that  his  tim 
ber's  better  than  anybody  else's.  He  cuts 
it  all  with  an  old-fashioned  vertical  saw,  and 
stamps  his  mark  on  every  piece." 

"  Why  should  it  be  any  better  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  is,  though  he 
selects  it  carefully.  The  main  thing  is,  he 
sells  it  dirt  cheap,  —  has  to,  you  know,  to 
stand  any  show  against  the  big  companies. 
He's  so  far  out  of  the  way,  no  boats  would 
take  the  trouble  to  run  around  there  if  he 
didn't.  Well,  McGiory,  we've  got  a  good 
thing  to  offer  you.  You  can  drop  in  here 
once  a  week  or  so,  you  know,  to  see  how 
things  are  running.  Come  over  to  the  office 
with  us  and  we'll  settle  the  terms."  Stenzen- 
berger  was  rising  as  he  spoke. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know.  I  couldn't  come 
over  for  a  few  minutes,  Cap'n." 

"  How  soon  could  you  ?  " 

"  About  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  All  right,  we'll  be  looking  for  you.  Here, 
give  me  half  a  dozen  ten  cent  straights  while 
I'm  here." 

McGiory  walked  to  the  door  with  them, 
and  stood  for  a  moment  looking  after  them. 


60  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

When  he  turned  and  pushed  back  through  the 
swinging  inner  doors,  he  found  Madge  standing 
by  the  bar  awaiting  him,  one  hand  held  behind 
her,  the  other  clenched  at  her  side,  her  eyes 
shooting  fire. 

He  paused,  and  looked  at  her  without 
speaking. 

"  So  you  are  going  back  to  the  Lake  ?  "  she 
said,  everything  about  her  blazing  with  anger 
except  her  voice  —  that  was  still  quiet. 

He  was  silent. 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  answer  me  ?  " 

"What's  all  this  fuss  about,  Madge?  I 
haven't  gone  yet." 

"  Don't  try  to  put  me  off.  Have  you  told 
them  you  would  go  back  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  told  'em  a  thing.  I'm  going 
around  in  a  minute  to  see  the  Cap'n,  and  we'll 
talk  it  over  then." 

"  And  you  have  forgotten  what  you  prom 
ised  me  ? " 

"  No,  I  ain't  forgot  nothing.  Look  here, 
there  ain't  no  use  o'  getting  stagy  about  this. 
I  ain't  told  him  I'll  do  it.  I  don't  believe 
I  will  do  it." 

"  Why  should  you  want  to,  Joe  ?      Aren't 


THE   NEW    MATE  61 

you  happy  here  ?  Aren't  you  making  more 
money  than  you  ever  did  on  the  Lake  ? " 

"Why,  of  course." 

"  Then  why  not  stay  here  ? " 

"  There's  only  this  about  it,"  he  replied, 
leaning  against  the  bar,  and  speaking  in  an 
off-hand  manner ;  "  Stenzenberger  offers  me 
the  chance  to  do  both.  I  could  be  in  here 
every  few  days  —  see  you  most  as  much  as 
I  do  now  in  a  busy  season  —  and  make  the 
extra  pay  clear." 

"  Oh,  that's  why  you  have  been  thinking 
you  might  do  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  that's  the  only  thing  about  it 
that — "  He  was  wondering  what  was  in 
her  other  hand.  "You  see,  I  can't  afford 
to  get  the  Cap'n  down  on  me." 

"You  can't?  I  should  think  he  would  be 
the  one  that  couldn't  afford  —  " 

"  Now  see  here,  Madge."  He  stepped  up 
to  her,  and  would  have  slipped  his  arm  around 
her  waist,  but  she  eluded  him.  "  I  guess  I'll 
go  over  and  see  what  he  has  to  offer,  and  then 
I'll  come  back,  and  you  and  me  can  talk  it  all 
over  and  see  if  we  think  —  " 

"  If  we  think  !  "  she  burst  out.     "  Do  you 


62  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

take  me  for  a  fool,  Joe  McGlory  ?  Do  you 
think  for  a  minute  I  don't  know  why  you  want 
to  go  —  and  why  you  mean  to  go  ?  Look  at 
that ! "  She  produced  a  photograph  of  a 
pretty,  foolish  young  woman,  and  read  aloud 
the  inscription  on  the  back,  "  To  Joe,  from 
Estelle." 

An  ugly  look  came  into  his  eye.  "  I 
wouldn't  get  excited  about  that  kiddishness 
if  I  was  you." 

"  So  you  call  it  kiddishness,  do  you,  and  at 
your  age  ?  " 

"  Well,  so  long  now,  Madge.  I'll  be  back 
in  a  few  minutes." 

"Joe  —  wait  —  don't  go  off  like  that.  Tell 
me  that  don't  mean  anything !  Tell  me  you 
aren't  ever  going  to  see  her  again  !  " 

"  Sure,  there's  nothing  in  it." 

"  And  you  won't  see  her  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course  I  won't  see  her.  She 
ain't  within  five  hundred  miles  of  here.  I 
don't  know  where  she  is." 

"  You'll  promise  me  that  ?  " 

"  You  don't  need  to  holler,  Madge.  I  can 
hear  you.  Somebody's  likely  to  be  coming 
in  any  minute,  and  what  are  they  going  to 


THE   NEW   MATE  63 

think  ?  "  He  passed  out  into  the  back  room, 
and  she  followed  him. 

"  How  soon  will  you  be  back,  Joe  ?  "  She 
saw  that  he  was  putting  on  his  heavy  jacket  — 
heavier  than  was  needed  to  step  over  to  the 
lumber  office. 

"Just  a  minute  —  that's  all." 

"  And  you  won't  promise  them  anything  ?  " 

"  Why,  sure  I  won't.  I  wouldn't  agree  to 
anything  before  you'd  had  a  look  at  it." 

He  watched  her  furtively ;  and  she  stood 
motionless,  trembling  a  little,  ready  at  the 
slightest  signal  to  spring  into  his  arms.  But 
he  reached  for  his  hat  and  went  out. 

She  stood  there,  still  motionless,  until  his 
step  sounded  on  the  front  walk ;  then  she  ran 
upstairs  and  knelt  by  the  window  that  over 
looked  the  yards.  She  saw  him  enter  the 
office.  A  few  moments,  and  the  two  men  who 
had  been  with  Stenzenberger  came  out  and 
walked  away.  A  half-hour,  and  still  Joe  was 
in  there  with  the  lumber  merchant.  An  hour 
—  and  then  finally  he  appeared,  glanced  back 
at  the  saloon,  and  walked  hurriedly  around  the 
corner  out  of  sight.  And  she  knew  that  he 
had  slipped  away  from  her.  The  photograph 


64  THE   MERRT  JNNE 

was  still  in  her  hand,  and  now  she  looked  at 
it  again,  scornfully,  bitterly. 

A  man  entered  the  saloon  below,  and  she 
did  not  hear  him  until  he  fell  to  whistling  a 
music-hall  tune.  At  something  familiar  in  the 
sound  a  peculiar  expression  came  over  her  face, 
and  she  threw  the  picture  on  the  floor  and 
hurried  down.  When  she  entered  the  sample 
room,  her  eyes  were  reckless. 

The  man  was  young,  with  the  air  of  the 
commercial  traveller  of  the  better  sort.  He 
was  seated  at  one  of  the  tables,  smoking  a  ciga 
rette.  His  name  was  William  Beveridge,  but 
he  passed  here  by  the  name  of  Bedloe. 

"  Hello,  Madge,"  he  said ;  "  what's  the  mat 
ter —  all  alone  here  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;   Mr.  Murphy's  down  town." 

"  And  McGlory  —  where's  he  ?  " 

"  He's  out  too." 

He  looked  at  her  admiringly.  Indeed,  she 
was  younger  and  prettier,  for  the  odd  expres 
sion  of  her  eyes. 

"  Well,  I'm  in  luck." 

"  Why  ? "  she  asked,  coming  slowly  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  table  and  leaning  on  the 
back  of  a  chair. 


THE   NEW   MATE  65 

But  in  gazing  at  her  he  neglected  to  reply. 
"By  Jove,  Madge,"  he  broke  out,  "do  you 
know  you're  a  beauty  ? " 

She  flushed  and  shook  her  head.  Then  she 
slipped  down  into  the  chair,  and  rested  her 
elbows  on  the  table. 

"  You're  the  hardest  person  to  forget  I  ever 
knew." 

"  I  guess  you  have  tried  hard  enough." 

"No  —  I  couldn't  get  round  lately  —  I've 
been  too  busy.  Anyhow,  what  was  the  use  ? 
If  I  had  thought  I  stood  any  show  of  seeing 
you,  I  would  have  come  or  broken  something. 
But  there  was  always  Murphy  or  McGlory 
around."  He  could  not  tell  her  his  real  ob 
ject  in  coming,  nor  in  avoiding  the  two  pro 
prietors,  who  had  watched  him  with  suspicion 
from  the  first.  "  Do  you  know,  this  is  the 
first  real  chance  you've  ever  given  me  to  talk 
to  you  ? " 

"  How  did  I  know  you  wanted  to  ?  " 

"  Oh,  come,  Madge,  you  know  better  than 
that.  How  could  anybody  help  wanting  to  ? 
But "  —  he  looked  around  —  "  are  we  all  right 
here  ?  Are  we  likely  to  be  disturbed  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,  not  unless  a  customer  comes  in." 


66  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Isn't  there  another  room  out  back  there 
where  we  can  have  a  good  talk  ? " 

She  shook  her  head  slowly,  with  her  eyes 
fixed  on  his  face.  And  he,  of  course,  misread 
the  flush  on  her  cheek,  the  dash  of  excitement 
in  her  eyes.  And  her  low  reply,  too,  "  We'd 
better  stay  here,"  was  almost  a  caress.  He 
leaned  eagerly  over  the  table,  and  said  in  a  voice 
as  low  as  hers :  "  When  are  you  going  to  let 
me  see  you  ?  There's  no  use  in  my  trying  to 
stay  away  —  I  couldn't  ever  do  it.  I'm  sure 
to  keep  on  coming  until  you  treat  me  right  — 
or  send  me  away.  And  I  don't  believe  that 
would  stop  me." 

"Aren't  you  a  little  of  an  Irishman,  Mr. 
Bedloe  ? " 

«  Why  ? " 

She  smiled,  with  all  a  woman's  pleasure  in 
conquest.  "  Why  haven't  you  told  me  any  of 
these  things  before  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  ?  Now,  Madge,  any  minute 
somebody's  likely  to  come  in.  I  want  you  to 
tell  me  —  can  you  ever  get  away  evenings?" 

"  Of  course  I  can,  if  I  want  to." 

"  To-morrow  ?  " 

«  Why  ? " 


THE   NEW   MATE  67 

"  There's  going  to  be  a  dance  in  the  pavilion 
at  St.  Paul's  Park.  Do  you  ride  a  wheel  ? " 

She  nodded. 

"It's  a  first-rate  ride  over  there.  There's 
a  moon  now,  and  the  roads  are  fine.  Have 
you  ever  been  there  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  It's  out  on  the  north  branch  —  only  about 
a  four-mile  run  from  here.  We  can  start  out, 
say,  at  five  o'clock,  and  take  along  something 
to  eat.  Then,  if  we  don't  feel  like  dancing,  we 
can  take  a  boat  and  row  up  the  river." 

She  rested  her  chin  on  her  hands,  and  looked 
at  him  with  a  half  smile.  "  Do  you  really 
mean  all  this,  Mr.  Bedloe  ?  " 

For  reply,  he  reached  over  and  took  both 
her  hands.  "  Will  you  go  ? " 

"  Don't  do  that,  please.  Do  you  know 
how  old  I  am  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care.     What  do  you  say  ? " 

"  Please  don't.     I  hear  some  one." 

"  No,  it's  a  wagon.     I  want  you  to  say  yes." 

"  You  —  you  know  what  it  would  mean  if — 
if—  " 

"  If  McGlory —  Yes,  I  know.  You're  not 
afraid  ? " 


68  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

Her  face  hardened  for  an  instant  at  this,  and 
then,  as  suddenly,  softened.  "  No,"  she  said  ; 
"  I'm  not  afraid  of  anything." 

"  And  you'll  go  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

"  Shall  I  come  here  ? " 

"  No,  you'd  better  not." 

"  Where  shall  we  meet  ?  " 

"  Oh  —  let  me  see  —  over  just  beyond  the 
station.  It's  quiet  there." 

"  All  right.     And  I'll  get  a  lunch  put  up." 

"No  —  it's  easier  for  me  to  do  that.  I'll 
bring  something.  And  now  go  —  please." 

He  rose,  and  slipped  around  the  table 
toward  her. 

"  Don't  —  you  must  go." 

And  so  he  went,  leaving  her  to  gaze  after 
him  with  a  high  color. 


CHAPTER    III 
AT   THE    HOUSE    ON   STILTS 


CHAPTER   III 

AT  THE   HOUSE   ON   STILTS 

DICK  and  Henry  did  not  go  directly  back, 
and  it  was  mid-afternoon  when  they 
reached  the  pier.  As  they  walked  down  the 
incline  from  the  road,  Dick's  eyes  strayed 
toward  the  house  on  stilts.  The  Captain  lay 
with  nose  in  the  sand,  and  beside  her,  evi 
dently  just  back  from  a  sail,  stood  Annie 
with  two  of  the  students  who  came  on  bright 
days  to  rent  Captain  Fargo's  boats.  They  were 
having  a  jolly  time,  —  he  could  hear  Annie 
laughing  at  some  sally  from  the  taller  student, 
—  and  they  had  no  eye  for  the  two  sailors  on 
the  pier.  Once,  as  they  walked  out,  Dick's 
hand  went  up  to  his  hat ;  but  he  was  mistaken, 
she  had  not  seen  him.  And  so  he  watched  her 
until  the  lumber  piles,  on  the  broad  outer  end 
of  the  pier,  shut  off  the  view ;  and  Henry 
watched  him. 


72  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

Dick  hardly  heard  what  his  cousin  said  when 
they  parted.  He  leaped  down  to  the  deck 
of  the  Merry  Anne,  and  plunged  moodily  into 
the  box  of  an  after  cabin.  His  men,  excepting 
Pink  Harper,  who  was  somewhere  up  forward 
devouring  a  novel,  were  on  shore  ;  so  that  there 
was  no  one  to  observe  him  standing  there  by  the 
little  window  gazing  shoreward.  Finally,  after 
much  chatting  and  lingering,  the  two  students 
sauntered  away.  Annie  turned  back  to  make 
her  boat  fast ;  and  Dick,  in  no  cheerful  frame 
of  mind,  came  hurrying  shoreward. 

She  saw  him  leap  down  from  pier  to  sand, 
and  gave  him  a  wave  of  the  hand  ;  then,  see 
ing  that  he  was  heading  toward  her,  she  turned 
and  awaited  him. 

"  Come,  Dick,  I  want  you  to  pull  the  Cap 
tain  higher  up." 

Dick  did  as  he  was  bid,  without  a  word. 
And  then,  with  a  look  and  tone  that  told 
her  plainly  what  was  to  come  next,  he  asked, 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  now  ?  " 

"  I  guess  I'll  have  to  see  if  mother 
wants  me.  I've  been  sailing  ever  since 
dinner." 

"  You  haven't  any  time  for  me,  then  ?  " 


AT   THE    HOUSE   ON   STILTS         73 

"  Why,  of  course  I  have,  —  lots  of  it.  But 
I  can't  see  you  all  the  while." 

"No,  I  suppose  you  can't  —  not  if  you  go 
sailing  with  those  boys." 

Annie's  mischievous  nature  leaped  at  the 
chance  this  speech  gave  her.  "  They  aren't 
boys,  Dick  ;  Mr.  Beveridge  is  older  than  most 
of  the  students.  He  told  me  all  about  him 
self  the  other  day." 

«  Oh,  he  did." 

"  Yes.  He  was  brought  up  on  a  farm,  and 
he  has  had  to  work  his  way  through  school. 
When  he  first  came  here,  he  got  off  the  train 
with  only  just  three  dollars  and  a  half  in  his 
pocket,  and  he  didn't  have  any  idea  where  he 
was  going  to  get  his  next  dollar.  I  think  it's 
pretty  brave  of  a  man  to  work  as  hard  as  that 
for  an  education." 

Dick  could  say  nothing.  Most  of  his  educa 
tion  had  come  in  through  his  pores. 

"  I  like  Mr.  Wilson,  too." 

"  He  is  the  other  one,  I  suppose  ?  " 

Dick,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  sand,  did  not 
catch  the  mirthful  glance  that  was  shot  at  him 
after  these  words.  And  her  voice,  friendly  and 
unconscious,  told  him  nothing. 


74  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Yes,  he  is  Mr.  Beveridge's  friend.  They 
room  together." 

"  Well,  I  hope  they  enjoy  it." 

"  Now,  Dick,  what  makes  you  so  cross  ? 
When  you  are  such  a  bear,  it  wouldn't  be  any 
wonder  if  I  didn't  want  to  see  you." 

He  gazed  for  a  minute  at  the  rippling  blue 
lake,  then  broke  out :  c'  Can  you  blame  me  for 
being  cross  ?  Is  it  my  fault  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  with  wondering 
eyes. 

"Why  —  you  don't  mean  it  is  my  fault, 
Dick  ? " 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  just  right  to  treat  me 
this  way,  Annie  ?  " 

"  What  way  do  you  mean,  Dick  ?  " 

He  bit  his  lip,  then  looked  straight  into 
her  eyes  and  came  out  with  characteristic 
directness :  — 

"  I  don't  like  to  think  I've  been  making  a 
mistake  all  this  while,  Annie.  Maybe  I  have 
never  asked  you  right  out  if  you  would  marry 
me.  I'm  not  a  college  fellow,  and  it  isn't 
always  easy  for  me  to  say  things,  but  I  thought 
you  knew  what  I  meant.  And  I  thought  that 
you  didn't  mind  my  meaning  it." 


AT   THE    HOUSE    ON   STILTS         75 

She  was  beginning  to  look  serious  and 
troubled. 

"  But  if  there  is  any  doubt  about  it,  I  say  it 
right  now.  Will  you  marry  me  ?  It  is  what 
I  have  been  working  for  —  what  I  have  been 
buying  the  schooner  for  —  and  if  I  had  thought 
for  a  minute  that  you  weren't  going  to  say  yes 
sooner  or  later,  I  should  have  gone  plumb  to 
the  devil  before  this.  It  isn't  a  laughing  mat 
ter.  It  has  been  the  thought  of  you  that  has 
kept  me  straight,  and  —  and  —  can't  you  see 
how  it  is,  Annie  ?  Haven't  you  anything  to 
say  to  me? " 

She  looked  at  him.  He  was  so  big  and 
brown ;  his  eyes  were  so  clear  and  blue. 

"  Don't  let's  talk  about  it  now.  You're  so 
—  impatient." 

"  Do  you  really  think  I've  been  impa 
tient?" 

She  could  not  answer  this. 

"  Now  listen,  Annie  :  I'm  going  to  sail  in  the 
morning,  away  around  to  a  place  called  Spencer, 
on  Lake  Huron ;  and  I  could  hardly  get  back 
inside  of  ten  or  twelve  days.  And  if  I  should 
go  away  without  a  word  from  you  —  well,  I 
couldn't,  that's  all." 


76  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

"  You  don't  mean  —  you  don't  want  me  to 
say  before  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that's  just  what  I  mean.  You  haven't 
anything  to  do  to-night,  have  you  ? " 

She  shook  her  head  without  looking  at  him. 

"Well,  I'll  be  around  after  supper,  and  we'll 
take  a  walk,  and  you  can  tell  me." 

But  her  courage  was  coming  back.  "  No, 
Dick,  I  can't." 

"  But,  Annie,  you  don't  mean  —  " 

"Yes,  I  do.  Why  can't  you  stop  bother 
ing  me,  and  just  wait.  Maybe  then  —  some 
day  —  " 

"It's  no  use  —  I  can't.  If  you  won't  tell 
me  to-night,  surely  ten  —  or,  say,  eleven  — 
days  ought  to  be  enough.  If  I  went  off  to 
morrow  without  even  being  able  to  look  for 
ward  to  it —  Oh,  Annie,  you've  got  to  tell 
me,  that's  all.  Let  me  see  you  to-night,  and 
I'll  try  not  to  bother  you.  I'll  get  back  in 
eleven  days,  if  I  have  to  put  the  schooner 
on  my  back  and  carry  her  clean  across  the 
Southern  Peninsula,"  —  she  was  smiling  now ; 
she  liked  his  extravagant  moods,  —  "  and 
then  you'll  tell  me."  He  had  her  hand;  he 
was  gazing  so  eagerly,  so  breathlessly,  that 


AT   THE   HOUSE   ON    STILTS         77 

she  could  hardly  resist.  "You'll  tell  me  then, 
Annie,  and  you'll  make  me  the  luckiest  fel 
low  that  ever  sailed  out  of  this  town.  Eleven 
days  from  to-night  —  and  I'll  come  —  and  I'll 
ask  you  if  it  is  to  be  yes  or  no  —  and  you'll 
tell  me  for  keeps.  You  can  promise  me  that 
much,  can't  you  ?  " 

And  Annie,  holding  out  as  long  as  she 
could,  finally,  with  the  slightest  possible  incli 
nation  of  her  head,  promised. 

"  Where  will  you  be  this  evening  ? "  he 
asked,  as  they  parted. 

"  I'll  wait  on  the  porch  —  about  eight." 

For  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  Dick  sat  brood 
ing  in  his  cabin.  When,  a  little  after  six,  he 
saw  Henry  coming  down  the  companionway, 
his  heart  warmed. 

"  Thought  I'd  come  over  and  eat  with  you," 
said  his  cousin.  "What's  the  matter  here  — 
why  don't  you  light  up  ? " 

Dick,  by  way  of  reply,  mumbled  a  few 
words  and  struck  a  light.  Henry  looked  at 
him  curiously. 

"  What  is  it,  Dick  ? "  he  asked  again. 

There  had  been  few  secrets  between  them. 
So  far  as  either  knew,  they  were  the  last  two 


78  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

members  of  their  family,  and  their  intimacy, 
though  never  expressed  in  words,  had  a  deep 
foundation.  Before  the  present  arrangement 
of  Dick's  work,  which  made  it  possible  for 
them  to  meet  at  least  once  in  the  month,  they 
had  seen  little  of  each  other ;  but  at  every 
small  crisis  in  the  course  of  his  struggle 
upward  to  the  command  of  a  schooner,  Dick 
had  been  guided  by  the  counsel  and  example 
of  the  older  man.  Now  he  spoke  out  his 
mind  without  hesitation. 

"Sit  down,  Henry.  When — when  I  told 
you  about  what  I  have  been  thinking  —  about 
Annie  —  why  did  you  look  at  me  as  you  did?  " 

"  How  did  I  look  ?  " 

"  Don't  dodge,  Henry.  The  idea  struck 
you  wrong.  I  could  see  that,  and  I  want  to 
know  why." 

"  Well,"  Henry  hesitated,  "  I  don't  know 
that  I  should  put  it  just  that  way.  I  confess 
I  was  surprised." 

"  Haven't  you  seen  it  coming  ?  " 

"  I  rather  guess  the  trouble  with  me  was 
that  I  have  been  planning  out  your  future 
without  taking  your  feelings  into  account." 

"  How  do  you  mean,  —  planning  my  future  ? " 


AT   THE    HOUSE    ON   STILTS         79 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  so  definite  that  I  could  answer 
that  question  offhand.  I  thought  I  saw  a  future 
for  myself,  and  I  thought  we  might  go  it  to 
gether.  But  I  was  counting  on  just  you  and  me, 
without  any  other  interests  or  impediments." 

"  But  if  I  should  marry  —  " 

"If  you  marry,  your  work  will  have  to 
take  a  new  direction.  Your  interests  will 
change  completely.  And  before  many  years, 
you  will  begin  to  think  of  quitting  the  Lake. 
It  isn't  the  life  for  a  family  man.  But  then  — 
that's  the  way  things  go.  I  have  no  right 
to  advise  against  it."  Henry  smiled,  with 
an  odd,  half  bitter  expression.  "And  from 
what  I  have  seen  since  my  eyes  were  opened,  I 
don't  believe  it  would  do  any  good  for  me  to 
object." 

"  You  are  mistaken  there,  Henry,"  the 
younger  man  replied  quietly ;  "  it  isn't  going 
well  at  all.  I've  been  pretty  blue  to-day." 

"  Well,"  said  Henry,  with  the  same  odd 
expression,  "  I  don't  know  but  what  I'm  sorry 
for  that.  That  future  I  was  speaking  of  seems 
to  have  faded  out  lately,  —  in  fact,  my  plans  are 
not  going  well,  either.  And  so  you  probably 
couldn't  count  on  me  very  much  anyway." 


8o  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

He  paused.  Pink  Harper,  who  acted  as 
cook  occasionally  when  the  Anne  was  tied 
up  and  the  rest  of  the  crew  were  ashore, 
could  be  heard  bustling  about  on  deck.  After 
a  moment  Henry  rose,  and,  with  an  impulsive 
gesture,  laid  his  hand  on  Dick's  shoulder. 
"Cheer  up,  Dick,"  he  said.  "Don't  take  it 
too  hard.  Try  to  keep  hold  of  yourself. 
And  look  here,  my  boy,  we've  always  stepped 
pretty  well  together,  and  we  mustn't  let  any 
new  thing  come  in  between  us  —  " 

"  Supper's  ready  ! "  Pink  called  down  the 
companionway. 

Dick  was  both  puzzled  and  touched ; 
touched  by  Henry's  moment  of  frankness, 
puzzled  by  the  reasons  given  for  his  opposition 
to  the  suggested  marriage.  It  was  not  like 
his  cousin  to  express  positive  opinions,  least  of 
all  with  inadequate  reasons.  Dick  had  no 
notion  of  leaving  the  Lake ;  he  could  never 
do  so  without  leaving  most  of  himself  behind. 
Plainly  Henry  did  not  want  him  married,  and 
Dick  wondered  why. 

It  was  half-past  seven,  and  night  was  set 
tling  over  the  Lake.  Already  the  pier  end 


AT   THE    HOUSE    ON   STILTS         81 

was  fading,  the  masts  of  the  two  schooners 
were  losing  their  distinctness  against  the  sky ; 
the  ripples  had  quieted  with  the  dying  day- 
breeze,  and  now  murmured  on  the  sand.  The 
early  evening  stars  were  peeping  out,  looking 
for  their  mates  in  the  water  below. 

On  the  steps,  sober  now,  and  inclined  to 
dreaming  as  she  looked  out  into  the  mystery 
of  things,  sat  Annie.  A  shadow  fell  across  the 
beach,  —  the  outline  of  a  broad  pair  of 
shoulders,  —  and  she  held  her  breath.  The 
shadow  lengthened ;  the  man  appeared  around 
the  corner  of  the  house.  Then,  as  he  came 
rapidly  nearer,  she  was  relieved  to  see  that  it 
was  Beveridge. 

He  was  in  a  cheerful  frame  of  mind  as  he 
stepped  up  and  sat  beside  her.  It  was  pleas 
ant  that  the  peculiar  nature  of  his  work  should 
make  it  advisable  to  cultivate  the  acquaint 
ance  of  an  attractive  young  woman  —  such  a 
very  attractive  young  woman  that  he  was  be 
ginning  to  think,  now  and  then,  of  taking 
her  away  with  him  when  his  work  here  should 
be  done. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  a  row  on  the  Lake  ? " 
he  suggested,  after  a  little. 


82  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  I  mustn't  go  away,"  said  Annie.  "  I 
promised  I  would  be  here  at  eight." 

"  But  it's  not  eight  yet,"  Beveridge  replied. 
"Let's  walk  a  little  way  —  you  can  keep  the 
house  in  sight,  and  see  when  he  comes." 

«  Well,"  doubtfully,  «  not  far." 

They  strolled  along  the  beach  until  Annie 
turned.  "  This  is  far  enough." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  can  let  your  Cap 
tain  come  around  quite  so  often,"  said  he,  as 
they  sat  down  on  the  dry  sand,  in  the  shelter 
of  a  clump  of  willows.  "  It  won't  do  —  he 
is  too  good  looking.  I  should  like  to  know 
what  is  to  become  of  the  rest  of  us." 

This  amused  Annie.  They  had  both  been 
gazing  out  towards  the  schooners,  and  he  had 
read  her  thoughts.  He  went  on :  "  You 
know  it's  not  really  fair.  These  sailor  fellows 
always  get  the  best  of  us.  He  named  his 
schooner  after  you,  didn't  he  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  I  don't  believe  so." 

"  Sailors  and  soldiers  —  it's  the  same  the 
world  over !  There's  no  chance  for  us  com 
mon  fellows  when  they  are  about.  Tell  you 
what  I  shall  have  to  do  — join  the  militia 
and  come  around  in  full  uniform.  Then 


AT   THE   HOUSE   ON   STILTS         83 

maybe  you  would  be  looking  at  me,  too.  1 
don't  know  but  what  I  could  even  make  you 
forget  him." 

She  had  to  laugh  at  this.  "  Maybe  you 
could." 

"I  suppose  it  wouldn't  do  me  any  good  to 
try  without  the  uniform,  would  it  ? " 

She  tossed  her  head  now.  "  So  that's  what 
you  think  of  me  —  that  I  care  for  nothing  but 
clothes  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  it's  not  the  clothes.  His  red 
shirt  would  never  do  it.  But  it's  the  idea  of  a 
sailor's  life  —  there  is  a  sort  of  glitter  about  it 
—  he  seems  pluckier,  somehow,  than  other 
men.  It's  the  dash  and  the  grand-stand  play 
that  fetches  it.  I  suppose  it  wouldn't  be  a  bit 
of  use  to  tell  you  that  you  are  too  good  for 
him." 

She  made  no  reply,  and  the  conversation 
halted.  Annie  gazed  pensively  out  across  the 
water.  He  watched  her,  and  as  the  moments 
slipped  away  his  expression  began  to  change ; 
for  he  was  still  a  young  man,  and  the  witchery 
of  the  night  was  working  within  him. 

"  Do  you  know,  I'm  pretty  nearly  mean 
enough  to  tell  you  some  things  about  Dick 


84  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

Smiley.  I  don't  know  but  what  I'm  a  little 
jealous  of  him." 

She  did  not  turn,  or  speak. 

"  I'm  afraid  it  is  so.  I  would  hardly  talk 
like  this  if  I  were  not.  I  thought  I  was  about 
girl-proof,  —  up  to  now,  no  one  has  been  able 
to  keep  my  mind  off  my  work  very  long  at  a 
time,  —  but  you  have  been  playing  the  mis 
chief  with  me,  this  last  week  or  so.  It's  no 
use,  Annie.  I  wouldn't  give  three  cents  for 
the  man  that  could  look  at  you  and  keep  his 
head.  And  when  I  think  of  you  throwing 
yourself  away  on  Smiley,  just  because  he's 
good-looking  and  a  sailor  —  you  mustn't  do  it, 
that's  all.  I  have  been  watching  you  —  " 

"  Oh,  —  you  have  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  I  think  maybe  I  see  some  things 
about  you  that  you  don't  see  yourself.  I  won 
der  if  you  have  thought  where  a  man  like 
Smiley  would  lead  you  ?  "  She  would  have  pro 
tested  at  this,  but  he  swept  on.  "He  can 
never  be  anything  more  than  he  is.  He  has 
no  head  for  business,  and  even  if  he  works 
hard,  he  can't  hope  to  do  more  than  own  his 
schooner.  You  see,  he's  not  prepared  for  any 
thing  better;  he's  side-tracked.  And  if  you 


AT   THE    HOUSE   ON   STILTS         85 

were  just  a  pretty  girl  and  nothing  more,  — just 
about  the  size  of  these  people  around  you,  — 
I  don't  suppose  I  should  say  a  word ;  I  should 
know  you  would  never  be  happy  anywhere 
else.  Why,  Annie,  do  you  suppose  there's 
a  girl  anywhere  else  on  the  shore  of  Lake 
Michigan — on  the  whole  five  Lakes  —  living 
among  fishermen  and  sailors,  as  you  do,  that 
could  put  on  a  dress  the  way  you  have  put 
that  one  on,  that  could  wear  it  the  way  you're 
wearing  it  now  ? 

"  Oh,  I  know  the  difference,  and  I  don't 
like  to  stand  by  and  let  you  throw  yourself 
away.  You  see,  Annie,  I  haven't  known 
you  very  long,  but  it  has  been  long  enough 
to  make  it  impossible  to  forget  you.  I 
haven't  any  more  than  made  my  start,  but 
I'm  sure  I  am  headed  right,  and  if  I  could  tell 
you  the  chance  there  is  ahead  of  me  to  do 
something  big,  maybe  you  would  understand 
why  I  believe  I'm  going  to  be  able  to  offer 
you  the  kind  of  life  you  ought  to  have  —  the 
kind  you  were  made  for.  I  don't  want  to 
climb  up  alone.  I  want  some  one  with  me  — 
some  one  to  help  me  make  it.  You  may 
think  this  is  sudden  —  and  you  would  be  right. 


86  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

It  is  sudden.  I  have  felt  a  little  important  about 
my  work,  I'm  afraid,  for  I  really  have  been 
doing  well.  But  ever  since  you  just  looked  at 
me  with  those  eyes  of  yours,  the  whole  business 
has  gone  upside  down.  Don't  blame  me  for 
talking  out  this  way.  It's  your  fault  for  being 
what  you  are.  I  expect  to  finish  up  my  work 
here  pretty  soon  now,  and  then  I'll  have  to  go 
away,  and  there's  no  telling  where  I'll  be." 

Annie  was  puzzled. 

"  Oh,  you  finish  so  soon  ?  It  is  only  Sep 
tember  now." 

"  I  have  to  move  on  when  the  work  is  done, . 
you  know.     I  obey  orders." 

"  But  I  thought  you  were  a  student,  Mr. 
Beveridge  ?  " 

He  hesitated ;  he  had  said  too  much.  Cha 
grined,  he  rose,  without  a  word,  at  her  "  Come, 
I  must  go  back  now,"  and  returned  with  her 
to  the  house.  And  when  they  were  approach 
ing  the  steps,  he  was  just  angry  enough  with 
himself  to  blunder  again. 

"  Wait,  Annie.  I  see  you  don't  understand 
me.  But  there  is  one  thing  you  can  under 
stand.  I  want  to  go  away  knowing  that  you 
aren't  going  to  encourage  Smiley  any  longer. 


AT   THE   HOUSE   ON   STILTS         87 

You  can  promise  me  that  much.  I  don't  want 
to  talk  against  him  ;  but  I  can  tell  you  he's 
not  the  man  for  you ;  he's  not  even  the  man 
you  think  he  is.  Some  day  I  will  explain  it 
all.  Promise  me  that  you  won't." 

But  she  hurried  on  resolutely  toward  the 
house,  and  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  follow. 
"  Will  you  take  my  word  for  it,  Annie,  —  that 
you'll  do  best  to  let  him  alone  ? " 

She  shook  her  head  and  hurried  along. 

On  the  steps  sat  a  gloomy  figure  —  Dick,  in 
his  Sunday  clothes,  white  shirt  and  collar,  red 
necktie,  and  all.  His  elbows  rested  on  his 
knees,  his  chin  rested  on  his  hands,  and  the 
darkness  of  the  great  black  Lake  was  in  his  soul. 
He  watched  the  approaching  figures  without 
raising  his  head;  he  saw  Beveridge  lift  his 
hat  and  turn  away  toward  the  bank ;  he  let 
Annie  come  forward  alone  without  speaking  to 
her. 

She  put  one  foot  on  the  bottom  step,  and 
nodded  up  at  him.  "  Here  I  am,  Dick.  Do 
you  want  to  sit  here  or  —  or  walk  ?  " 

He  got  up,  and  came  slowly  down  to  the 
sand. 

"  So  this  is  the  way  you  treat  me,  Annie  ?  " 


88  THE    MERRT  4NNE 

"I'm  not  late,  am  I,  Dick?  It  can't  be 
much  after  eight." 

"  So  you  go  walking  with  him,  when  — 
when  —  " 

"  Now,  Dick,  don't  be  foolish.  Mr.  Bever- 
idge  came  around  early,  and  wanted  me  to 
walk,  and  —  and  I  told  him  I  couldn't  stay 
away  —  " 

She  was  not  quite  her  usual  sprightly  self; 
and  the  manner  of  this  speech  was  not  convinc 
ing.  Dick's  reply  was  a  subdued  sound  that 
indicated  anything  but  satisfaction. 

"I'm  mad,  Annie,  —  I  know  I'm  mad  — 
and  I  don't  think  you  can  blame  me." 

"I  —  I  didn't  ask  you  to  come  before  eight, 
Dick." 

"  Oh,  that  was  it,  was  it  ?  I  suppose  you 
told  him  to  come  at  seven." 

"  Now,  Dick,  —  please  — ' 

But  he,  not  daring  to  trust  his  tongue,  was 
angry  and  helpless  before  her.  After  a  mo 
ment  he  turned  away  and  stood  looking  out 
toward  the  lights  of  the  schooner.  Finally  he 
said,  in  a  strange  voice,  "  I  see  I've  been  a 
fool  —  I  thought  you  meant  some  of  the  things 
you've  said  —  I  ought  to  have  known  better ; 


AT   THE    HOUSE    ON   STILTS         89 

I  ought  to  have  known  you  were  just  fooling 
with  me — you  were  just  a  flirt." 

He  did  not  look  around.  Even  if  he  had, 
the  night  would  have  concealed  the  color  in 
her  cheeks.  But  he  heard  her  say,  "  I  think 
perhaps  —  you  had  better  go,  Dick." 

He  hesitated,  then  turned. 

"  Good  night,"  she  said,  and  ran  up  the 
steps. 

"  Say  —  wait,  Annie  —  " 

The  door  closed  behind  her,  and  Dick  stood 
alone.  He  waited,  thinking  she  might  come 
back,  but  the  house  was  silent.  He  stepped 
back  and  looked  up  at  her  little  balcony  with 
its  fringe  of  flowers,  but  it  was  deserted ;  no 
light  appeared  in  the  window.  At  last  he 
turned  away,  and  tramped  out  to  the  Merry 
Anne.  The  men  were  aboard,  ready  for  an 
early  start  in  the  morning ;  the  new  mate  was 
settling  himself  in  the  cabin.  To  Dick,  as  he 
stood  on  the  pier  and  looked  down  on  the 
trim  little  schooner,  nothing  appeared  worth 
while.  He  leaped  down  to  the  deck,  and 
thought  savagely  that  he  would  have  made  the 
the  same  leap  if  the  deck  had  not  been  there, 
if  there  had  been  fourteen  feet  of  green  water 


9o  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

and  a  berth  on  the  scalloped  sand  below.  But 
there  was  one  good  thing  —  nothing  could  rob 
Dick  of  his  sleep.  And  in  his  dreams  Annie 
was  always  kind. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE   CIRCLE   MARK 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE   CIRCLE   MARK 

EARLY  in  the  morning  they  were  off. 
Dick,  glum  and  reckless,  took  the  wheel ; 
McGlory  went  up  forward  and  looked  after 
hoisting  the  jibs  and  foresail.  The  new  mate 
had  already  succeeded,  by  an  ugly  way  he  had, 
in  antagonizing  most  of  the  men ;  but  their 
spirits  ran  high,  in  spite  of  him,  as  the  Merry 
Anne  slipped  away  from  the  pier  and  headed 
out  into  the  glory  of  the  sunrise. 

"  Hey,  Peenk,"  called  Larsen,  "  geeve  us 
c  Beelly  Brown.' '  And  Pink,  who  needed  no 
urging,  roared  out  promptly  the  following 
ballad,  with  the  whole  crew  shouting  the 
spoken  words :  — 

Oh,  Billy  Brown  he  loved  a  girl, 

And  her  name  was  Mary  Rowe,  O-ho ! 

She  lived  way  down 

In  that  wick-ed  town, 

93 


94  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

The  town  called  She-caw-go. 

(Spoken)  WHERE'S  THAT? 

The  place  where  the  Clark  streets  grow. 

««  Oh,  Mary,  will  you  bunk  with  me  ?  " 
"Say,  ain't  you  a  little  slow,  O-ho  ! 

'Bout  sailin'  down 

To  this  wicked  town 
To  tell  me  you  love  me  so  ?  " 
(Spoken)  GO  'LONG! 
She's  givin'  'im  the  wink,  I  know. 

Oh,  the  wind  blowed  high,  an'  the  wind  blowed  strong, 
An'  the  Gross'  Point'  reef  laid  low,  O-ho  ! 

An'  Billy  Brown 

Went  down,  down,  down, 
To  the  bottom  of  the  place  below. 
(Spoken)  WHERE'S  MARY? 
She's  married  to  a  man  named  Joe. 

"  You're  makin'  noise  enough  up  there," 
growled  McGlory.  Pink,  with  a  rebellious 
glance,  bent  over  the  rope  he  was  coiling  and 
held  his  peace. 

As  they  started,  so  they  sailed  during  four 
days  —  the  Captain  reckless,  the  mate  hard 
and  uncommunicative,  the  men  cowed.  And 
at  mid-morning  on  the  fourth  day  they  arrived 
at  Spencer. 

The  Hydrographic  Office  had  at  that  time 
worked  wonders  in  charting  these  Great 


THE   CIRCLE   MARK  95 

Lakes  of  ours,  but  it  had  given  no  notice  to 
the  little  harbor  that  was  tucked  snugly  away 
behind  False  Middle  Island,  not  a  hundred 
miles  from  Mackinaw  City  on  the  Lake 
Huron  side ;  merely  a  speck  of  an  island 
with  a  nameless  dent  behind  it.  But  old 
Spencer,  a  lank,  hatchet-faced  Yankee,  had 
found  that  a  small  schooner  could  be  worked 
in  if  she  headed  due  west,  "  with  the  double 
sand  dune  against  the  three  pines  till  you  get 
the  forked  stump  ranged  with  the  ruined 
shanty ;  meet  this  range  and  hold  it  till 
clear  of  the  bar  at  the  north  end  of  the 
island ;  circle  around  to  port ;  when  clear  of 
the  bar,  hug  the  inner  shore  of  the  island 
until  the  mill  can  be  seen  behind  the  trees ; 
then  run  up  into  the  harbor.  Plenty  of 
water  here." 

This  discovery  had  resulted  in  such  a  curi 
ous  little  mill  as  can  be  found  only  in  the 
back  corners  of  the  country,  —  a  low  shed 
with  a  flat  roof;  one  side  open  to  the  day; 
within,  an  old-fashioned  vertical  saw ;  the 
whole  supplied  with  power  by  a  rotting,  drip 
ping,  moss-covered  sluiceway. 

All   about   were   blackened    pine    stumps  — 


96  THE   MER.RT  ANNE 

nothing  else  for  a  hundred  miles.  And  all 
through  the  forest  was  the  sand,  drifting  like 
snow  over  roads  and  fences,  changing  the 
shape  of  the  land  in  every  high  wind,  blow 
ing  into  hair  and  clothes,  and  adding,  with 
the  tall,  endless,  gray-green  mullein  stalks, 
the  final  touch  of  desolation  to  a  hopeless 
land.  Here  and  there,  in  the  clearings,  sand- 
colored  farmers  and  their  sand-colored  wives 
struggled  to  wring  a  livelihood  from  the 
thankless  earth.  Other  farmers  had  drifted 
helplessly  away,  leaving  houses  and  barns  to 
blacken  and  rot  and  sink  beneath  the  sand 
drifts,  and  leaving,  too,  rows  of  graves  under 
the  stumps. 

Twenty  miles  down  the  coast,  where  a  rail 
road  touched,  was  a  feeble  little  settlement 
that  was  known,  on  the  maps,  as  Ramsey 
City. 

This  region  had  been  "  cut  over "  once ;  it 
had  been  burned  over  more  than  once ;  and 
yet  old  Spencer,  with  his  handful  of  em 
ployees  and  his  deliberate  little  mill,  wore  a 
prosperous  look  on  his  inscrutable  Yankee 
face.  There  was  no  inhabited  house  within 
ten  miles,  but  he  was  apparently  contented. 


THE   CIRCLE    MARK  97 

McGlory,  it  seemed,  knew  the  channel;  so 
Dick  surrendered  the  wheel  when  they  were 
nearing  the  island,  and  stood  at  his  elbow, 
watching  the  landmarks.  The  mate  volun 
teered  no  information,  but  Dick  needed  none; 
he  made  out  the  ranges  with  the  eye  of  a 
born  sailor.  But  even  he  was  surprised  when 
the  Merry  Anne  swung  around  into  the  land 
locked  harbor  and  glided  up  to  a  rude  wharf 
that  was  piled  with  lumber.  Behind  it  was 
the  mill ;  behind  that,  at  some  distance,  a 
comfortable  house,  nearly  surrounded  by  other 
smaller  dwellings. 

"  So  this  is  Spencer,  eh  ? "  observed  Dick. 

"  This  is  Spencer,"   McGlory  replied. 

The  owner  himself  was  coming  down  to 
meet  them,  reading  over  a  letter  from  his 
friend,  Stenzenberger,  as  he  walked.  His  wife 
came  out  of  her  kitchen  and  stood  on  her 
steps  to  see  the  schooner.  Two  or  three 
men  in  woodman's  flannels  were  lounging 
about  the  mill,  and  these  sat  up,  renewed 
their  quids  from  a  common  plug,  and 
stared. 

"How  are  you?"  nodded  Spencer,  pocket 
ing  the  letter.  He  caught  the  line  and 


98  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

threw  it  over  a  snubbing  post.  "  This  Mr. 
Smiley  ? " 

"  That's  who,"  said  Dick. 

"  How  are  you,  Joe  ?  "  to  McGlory. 

"  How  are  you,  Mr.  Spencer  ?  " 

In  a  moment  they  were  fast,  and  Dick  had 
leaped  ashore.  He  caught  Spencer's  shrewd 
eyes  taking  him  in,  and  laughed,  "  Well,  I 
guess  you'll  know  me  next  time." 

"  Guess  I  will."  There  was  a  puzzled,  even 
disturbed  expression  on  the  lumberman's  face. 
"  I  was  thinking  you  didn't  look  much  like 
your  cousin.  The  stuff's  all  ready  for  you 
there.  You'd  better  put  one  of  your  men  on 
to  check  it  up.  Will  you  walk  up  and  take  a 
look  around  the  place  ?  " 

"Thanks  —  guess  I'll  stay  right  here  and 
hustle  this  stuff  aboard.  I'd  like  to  put  out 
again  after  dinner." 

Spencer  drew  a  plug  from  a  trousers  pocket, 
offered  it  to  Dick,  who  at  the  sight  of  it  shook 
his  head,  and  helped  himself  to  a  mouthful. 
Then  his  eyes  took  in  the  schooner,  her  crew, 
and  the  sky  above  them.  "  Wind's  getting 
easterly,"  he  observed.  "  Looks  like  freshen 
ing  up.  Mean  business  getting  out  of  here 


THE   CIRCLE    MARK  99 

against  the  wind  —  no  room  for  beating. 
You'd  better  leave  your  mate  to  load  and  have 
a  look  at  the  place." 

"  Well,  all  right ;  McGlory,  see  to  getting 
that  stuff  aboard  right  off,  will  you?  We'll 
try  to  get  out  after  dinner  sometime." 

When  Spencer  had  shown  his  guest  the  mill 
and  the  houses  of  his  men,  he  led  the  way  to 
his  own  home  and  seated  his  guest  in  the  living 
room.  Here  from  a  corner  cupboard  he  pro 
duced  a  bottle  and  two  glasses. 

"  I've  got  a  little  something  to  offer  you 
here,  Mr.  Smiley,"  said  he,  "  that  I  think  you'll 
find  drinkable.  I  usually  keep  some  on  hand 
in  case  anybody  comes  along.  I  don't  take 
much  myself,  but  it's  sociable  to  have  around." 

Dick  tossed  off  a  glass  and  smacked  his  lips. 
"  Well,  say,  that's  the  real  stuff." 

"  Guess  there  ain't  no  doubt  about  that." 

"  Where  do  you  get  it  from  ? " 

"  I  bought  that  in  Detroit  last  time  I  was 
down.  Couldn't  say  what  house  it's  from." 

"  Oh,  you  get  out  of  here  now  and  then,  do 
you  ? " 

"  Not  often  —  have  another  ? " 

"  Thanks,  don't  care  if  I  do." 


ioo  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"You  see  I've  got  a  little  schooner  of  my 
own,  the  Estelle,  —  named  her  after  my  wife's 
sister,  —  and  now  and  then  I  take  a  run  down 
the  shore  to  Saginaw  or  Port  Huron,  or  some 
where." 

"  Do  you  get  much  lumber  out  ? " 

"  Enough  for  a  living." 

"  I  noticed  you  had  a  mark  on  the  end  of 
every  big  stick  —  looked  like  a  groove  cut  in  a 
circle  —  most  a  foot  across." 

"  Yes,  that's  my  mark." 

"  The  idea  being  that  people  will  know  your 
stuff,  I  suppose." 

Spencer  nodded  shortly.  "  I'm  getting  out 
the  best  lumber  on  the  Great  Lakes  —  that's 
why  I  mark  it  —  help  yourself  to  that  bottle  — 
there,  I'll  just  set  it  where  you  can  reach  it." 

Dick  would  have  stopped  ordinarily  at  two 
glasses.  To-day  he  stopped  at  nothing. 
"  Much  obliged.  I  haven't  touched  anything 
as  strong  as  this  for  two  years." 

"Swore  off?" 

"Sort  of,  but  I  don't  know  that  I've  been 
any  better  off  for  it.  There's  nothing  so  good 
after  sailing  the  best  part  of  a  week." 

"  You're  right,  there  ain't.     And  that's  the 


THE    CIRCLE    MARK  101 

pure  article  there  —  wouldn't  hurt  a  babe  in 
arms.  Take  another.  You  haven't  been 
working  for  Cap'n  Stenzenberger  many  years, 
have  you  ? " 

Throughout  this  conversation  Spencer  was 
studying  Smiley's  face. 

"  No,  nothing  like  so  long  as  Henry." 

"  How  do  you  get  along  with  him  ?  " 

"  The  Cap'n  ?  Oh,  all  right.  He's  a  little 
too  smart  for  me,  but  I  guess  he's  square 
enough." 

"  Doing  a  good  business,  is  he  ?  " 

"  Couldn't  say.  I  don't  know  much  about 
his  business." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  ?  "  There  was  a  shade  of 
disappointment  in  the  lumberman's  voice  as  he 
said  this,  but  Dick,  who  was  reaching  for  the 
bottle,  failed  to  observe  it. 

"  McGlory  been  with  you  long  ?  " 

"  No,  this  is  his  first  trip." 

"  You  don't  say  so !  Wasn't  he  with  your 
cousin  a  while  back  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  a  year." 

"Thought  I'd  seen  him  on  the  Schmidt.  Is 
he  a  good  man  ?  " 

"  Good  enough." 


102  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Let's  see,  wasn't  he  in  with  Stenzenberger 
once  ? " 

"  Couldn't  say." 

"  Oh,  you  couldn't  ?  " 

"  No.  Say,  I'll  have  to  step  down  and  see 
how  things  are  going.  Here,  I'll  just  have 
another  nip  out  o'  that  bottle." 

"  Nonsense,  Cap'n ;  sit  down,  sit  down.  I 
guess  McGlory's  competent  to  get  the  load 
aboard  all  right.  I  ain't  hardly  begun  to  get 
acquainted  with  you  yet.  We'll  have  dinner 
pretty  soon  now,  and  when  you've  put  a  little 
something  solid  inside  you,  we'll  go  down  and 
have  a  look  at  things.  Don't  get  bashful 
about  the  bottle.  There's  plenty  more  where 
that  come  from." 

"  I  don't  know  but  what  I've  had  all  that's 
good  for  me." 

"  Pshaw  !  A  man  of  your  inches  ?  Here 
now,  here's  to  you  !  " 

They  drank  together,  and  a  little  later  they 
drank  again. 

When  Mrs.  Spencer,  a  tired,  faded  out  little 
body,  came  to  the  door  and  said,  "  Dinner  is 
ready,  Ed,"  Dick's  spirits  were  soaring  amaz 
ingly,  and  his  voice  had  risen  to  a  pitch  slightly 


THE    CIRCLE    MARK  103 

above  the  normal.  Spencer  nodded  toward 
his  guest  and  remarked,  "  This  is  Cap'n 
Smiley,  Josie." 

"  Glad  to  make  your  acquaintance,"  ex 
claimed  Dick,  boisterously,  striding  forward  to 
shake  her  hand. 

"  Show  the  Cap'n  to  the  dining  room,  will 
you,  Josie?"  Spencer  said.  "  I'll  step  out  and 
call  the  boys." 

Mrs.  Spencer  led  the  way  through  the  short 
hall  to  the  dining  room,  where  a  table  was 
spread  for  Spencer's  eight  or  ten  men  (Mc- 
Glory  and  the  crew  were  to  eat  on  the  Merry 
Anne).  Dick,  stepping  high,  followed  her,  and 
found  himself  being  presented  to  a  blond 
young  woman  with  blue  eyes  and  an  agree 
able  expression.  "  My  sister  Estelle,  Cap'n 
Smiley,"  said  Mrs.  Spencer. 

"  Glad  to  meet  you,"  said  Dick,  looking  so 
hard  at  her  as  they  shook  hands  that  she 
blushed  and  dropped  her  eyes. 

Mrs.  Spencer  slipped  out  to  the  kitchen 
after  the  introduction,  leaving  them  to  await 
the  men. 

"  You've  never  been  here  before  ? "  she 
ventured. 


104  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

"  Never  have.     Do  you  live  here  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I've  been  with  sister  four  years  now." 

"  Well,  say,  this  is  a  pretty  lonely  place  for 
a  girl  like  you.  I'll  have  to  sail  around 
often." 

"  I  guess  you  will." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  you're  too  pretty  for  this  cor 
ner  of  the  woods." 

Estelle  blushed  and  shook  her  head. 

"  But  that's  the  gospel  truth,  sure  as  I'm 
Dick  Smiley.  And  I  can  see  you're  too  sen 
sible  to  get  mad  at  any  one  for  telling  the 
truth." 

"  Oh,  Captain,  I'm  afraid  you're  a  flirt," 
simpered  Estelle. 

"  Me,  flirt  ?  Never.  Not  on  your  diamond 
ear-rings !  " 

"  Sh  !  What  would  Ed  think  if  he  was  to 
come  in  and  hear  you  talking  like  that  ?  " 

Spencer,  in  truth,  was  already  on  the  steps ; 
in  another  moment  he  came  into  the  room  at 
the  head  of  his  men.  And  Dick,  suddenly 
aware  that  his  tongue  was  taking  liberties  with 
him,  shut  his  lips  tight  and  refused  to  speak 
another  word  throughout  the  meal.  In  vain 
the  lumberman  rallied  him ;  in  vain  the  men 


THE    CIRCLE   MARK  105 

made  advances ;  in  vain  Estelle,  who  was  wait 
ing  on  table,  threw  him  glances  from  behind 
Spencer's  chair  or  let  her  hand  brush  his  in 
passing  him  the  potatoes ;  from  a  flushed, 
talkative  man,  Dick  had  turned  abruptly  into 
a  silent,  moody  one,  and  he  ate  steadily,  with 
eyes  for  nothing  but  his  food. 

The  meal  was  nearly  over  when  Spencer, 
looking  around  the  table,  said,  "  Hello,  where's 
Pete  ?  " 

"  He's  busy,"  replied  one  of  the  men,  "  said 
he'd  be  a  little  late." 

"  Well,  if  he  likes  his  vittles  cold,  I  guess 
it's  his  own  funeral." 

"  There  he  is  now,  outside  there." 

At  this  Spencer  pushed  back  his  chair  and 
went  to  the  window.  "  Hello,  there,  Pete,"  he 
called.  "  Ain't  you  coming  to  dinner  ? " 

"  Yes,  be  right  along." 

Dick  stopped  eating  at  the  sound  of  the  last 
voice,  and  listened,  his  fork  in  the  air,  for  what 
was  coming  next.  Hearing  nothing  further,  he 
faced  around  and  watched  the  door.  A  moment 
later  in  came  Roche,  trying  to  greet  the  men 
without  looking  at  his  former  captain,  and  slid 
ing  into  his  chair  with  averted  face. 


io6  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Mr.  Roche,  don't  you  know  Cap'n 
Smiley  ?  "  said  Spencer. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know  him.  How  are  you, 
Cap'n?"  ' 

"  How  are  you,  Pete  ?  How'd  you  get 
here  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  — "  Roche  was  embarrassed.  "I 
used  to  work  for  Mr.  Spencer,  and  when  I  left 
you  he  took  me  back." 

Dick  merely  grunted,  and  went  on  eating. 

"  Here,  Estelle  !  "  called  Spencer.  "  Estelle, 
Cap'n  Smiley'd  like  another  piece  o'  pie. 
Ain't  Estelle  there,  Josie  ?  " 

Mrs.  Spencer  appeared  in  the  kitchen  door 
way.  "  No,  she  ain't  here." 

"  Why,  I  just  saw  her  a  minute  or  so  ago." 

"  She  said  it  was  hot  in  the  kitchen  and 
stepped  outside.  What  is  it  you  want  ?  " 

"  Cap'n  Smiley'd  like  some  more  pie." 

"  All  right,  I'll  get  it  for  him." 

Dick  bolted  the  second  helping  in  the  silence 
that  had  enveloped  him  since  the  meal  began. 
Then  he  got  up,  said  something  about  the 
schooner  that  nobody  quite  understood,  and 
left  the  house. 

Matters   were   going   slowly  at    the   wharf. 


THE    CIRCLE    MARK  107 

There  was  still  a  small  pile  of  timber,  and  an 
other  of  shingles  waiting  to  be  loaded.  So  far 
as  Dick  could  see,  Harper  seemed  to  be  direct 
ing  the  work. 

"What  are  you  doing  there,  Pink?"  he 
demanded,  in  a  tone  that  made  Pink  look 
curiously  at  him  before  replying. 

"  Loadin'  up." 

"Where's  McGlory  ? " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  You  don't  know  !  Well,  why  in don't 

you  know  ? " 

"  I'll  tell  you,  Cap'n." 

"  Oh,  you'll  tell  me,  will  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  will.  Mr.  McGlory  was  awful  par- 
tic'lar  about  the  first  load  o'  stuff  that  went 
aboard,  handled  most  of  it  hisself,  and  made 
us  work  slow,  an'  then  he  just  naturally  quit 
workin'  and  walked  off  without  sayin'  a  word, 
an'  so  I  an'  the  boys  have  been  tryin'  to  hustle 
it  aboard,  like  you  said,  without  him." 

"  Quit  workin' !  What  right's  he  got  to 
quit  workin'  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,  Cap'n.' 

Two  of  the  sailors,  standing  near  by,  had 
been  watching  their  captain  during  this  talk. 


io8  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

Now  one  of  them  turned  away  to  hide  a 
grin. 

"What  are  you  grinning  about  there?" 
roared  Dick. 

"  I  wasn't  grinnin',  Cap'n." 

"  Oh,  you  wasn't.  Get  to  work,  then,  and 
shut  your  mouths.  You're  a  lot  o'  loafers, 
that's  what  you  are.  Hustle,  now ! "  He 
lent  a  strong  hand  himself,  glad  to  vent  in  work 
the  explosives  that  were  working  in  his  head  ; 
and  as  he  worked  he  muttered,  "  So  we  quit 
workin'  when  we're  tired,  do  we?" 

Meanwhile  the  mate  was  strolling  in  the 
forest  a  few  hundred  yards  away  with  Estelle. 
He  was  looking  closely  at  her,  as  they  walked, 
from  under  heavy  eyebrows.  She  was  flushing 
a  very  little  and  studying  the  sand  at  her  feet. 

"Who's  been  giving  you  that  kind  o'  talk 
about  me  ?  "  he  was  asking. 

"  Why  —  I  don't  know  as  it  was  anybody 
especial." 

"  You  didn't  believe  it,  did  you  ? " 

"  N-no  —  but  you  see,  you  told  me  you 
were  coming  right  back,  and  then  you  didn't 
—  and  I  didn't  know  whether  I  was  ever  going 
to  see  you  again  or  not.  I  thought  —  " 


THE    CIRCLE    MARK  109 

"Well,  what  was  it  you  thought  ?  " 
"  I  thought  you  probably  could  have  come 
if  you'd  wanted  to  !  " 

"  You  know  better  than  that,  Estelle.  The 
only  way  I  could  come  was  on  the  schooner, 
and  Cap'n  Henry  laid  me  off  before  the  next 
trip.  The  minute  I  had  a  chance  to  come  up 
here  with  this  man,  I  grabbed  it.  What  I'd 
like  to  know  is,  who  is  there  up  here  that 
wants  to  tell  lies  about  me  ?  What  else  have 
you  heard  ? " 

"You  —  you  won't  be  mad,  Joe,  if — if  I  tell? " 
"  Course  not.     Here,  let's  sit  down." 
They  found  a  seat  in  the  hollow  of  the  sand, 
where  the  undergrowth  screened  them. 

"  You  see,  Joe,  I  heard  that  you  —  were 
married." 

He  started  up.     "  That's  a  lie  ! " 
"  You  said  you  —  wouldn't  get  mad." 
He  dropped    down   again,    muttering :    "  I 
ain't    mad  at  you,  Estelle,  but  don't  you  see 
there's  some  one  that's  just  setting  out  to  spread 
these  lies.     It's  enough  to  rile  a  fellow.     Who 
was  it  told  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  —  it  was  quite  a  while  back 
—  maybe  it  was  —  Josie." 


no  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  But  she  don't  know  anything  about  me. 
Who  could  V  told  her?" 

"  I  don't  know.  You  won't  say  anything 
to  her,  will  you,  Joe?" 

"  No,  course  not.  It's  funny,  that's  all. 
But  so  long's  you  don't  believe  it,  I  don't  sup 
pose  I've  got  any  cause  for  kicking." 

"  Of  course  I  don't  believe  it  —  not  now. 
Before  you'd  come  back,  and  after  all  you'd 
said  about —  " 

"About  what,  Estelle?  " 

"  About  coming  up  here  for  me  —  and  our 
going  away  from  here  —  " 

"  That's  it,"  he  broke  in  eagerly  —  "  that's 
just  it.  I  couldn't  do  it  then  because  I  didn't 
have  the  ready.  But  now,  you  see,  I've  got 
a  little  put  by,  and  there  ain't  nothing  to  hinder 
our  clearing  out  o'  here  for  good." 

"  Isn't  there,  Joe  ?  " 

"  Not  a  thing." 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad.  You  don't  know  —  you 
don't  know  how  sick  I  get  of  this  place,  and 
these  men  around.  I  most  die  with  it  some 
times  —  feel  as  if  I  could  go  away  alone  if  I 
knew  of  any  place  to  go.  Once  I  thought  a 
little  of — of  just  doing  it  anyhow,  and  maybe 


THE    CIRCLE    MARK  in 

finding  you  in  Chicago.  You've  told  me 
where  your  place  is,  you  know,  up  on  the 
north  side." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  we  can  do  it  now." 

"  Now,  Joe  ? " 

"  Sure." 

"  To-day  ?  " 

"Well  —  you  see — I  couldn't  hardly  do  it 
to-day.  I've  got  to  finish  my  trip." 

"Oh  —  " 

"  Now  wait,  Estelle.  If  I  got  impatient,  I'd 
lose  the  trick,  don't  you  see.  This  man,  Dick 
Smiley,  is  working  for  the  man  that's  got  to 
help  me.  I  know  a  way  to  make  him  back 
me —  set  me  up  in  my  own  place  in  some  new 
town  maybe.  I  couldn't  leave  Smiley  in  the 
lurch  without  getting  his  boss  down  on  me. 
I've  got  a  hold  on  him,  but  he'd  never  stand 
for  that.  This  Smiley's  a  no-good  let,  but  I've 
got  to  stick  out  this  trip  with  him." 

"  But  —  then  you'll  be  back  in  Chicago." 

"  I  know.  I'm  coming  up  here  by  train. 
Or  say  I  meet  you  at  Saginaw." 

"  You  thought  you  could  do  that  before." 

"  I  was  broke  then.  Now  I've  got  the  stuff. 
And  I  know  how  I  can  turn  a  trick  on  this 


ii2  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

trip  back  that'll  be  worth  an  easy  five  hundred 
to  me.  That'll  take  us  clear  down  to  Niagara 
Falls,  maybe." 

"  Oh,  could  we  go  there,  Joe  ?  " 

"  Sure,  anywhere  you  say." 

"  But,  how'll  I  know  when  to  start  ? " 

"  Well,  let's  see.  I  can't  be  sure  of  getting 
back  to  Chicago,  and  cleaning  things  up,  and 
coming  up  to  Saginaw  inside  of  seven  days. 
Call  it  eight;  that'll  make  it  —  to-day's 
Tuesday  —  next  week  Wednesday.  What  day 
does  Spencer  drive  down  to  Ramsey  ?  " 

"  Thursdays." 

"  Then  that's  our  day.  You  could  get  him 
to  take  you  along,  couldn't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  you  give  him  the  slip  and  catch  the 
afternoon  train  to  Saginaw." 

"  But  how  could  I  take  my  things  ?  He'd 
be  sure  to  see  them." 

"  Leave  'em  behind.  I'll  buy  you  what  you 
need.  Have  you  got  any  money  ?  " 

"  Not  very  much  ?  " 

He  sat  up  and  drew  out  a  handful  of  bills. 
"  Here  —  say  I  give  you  twenty-five.  That'll 
see  you  through,  won't  it  ?  " 


THE    CIRCLE    MARK  113 

"  Oh,  yes,  Joe." 

She  was  decidedly  pretty  now.  Her  weak 
face  was  alive  with  eagerness,  her  eyes  were 
dancing.  And  McGlory,  as  he  looked  at  her, 
seemed  to  feel  something  approaching  a  thrill. 

There  they  sat,  hearing  nothing,  seeing 
nothing,  until  the  brush  parted  and  Dick  stood 
over  them,, 

"  Well,  Mr.  Man,"  said  he,  "  I  hope  you're 
passing  a  pleasant  afternoon  with  your  friend." 

Estelle  got  to  her  feet  first. 

"  We  thought  maybe  you'd  spend  a  few 
minutes  with  us  to-day,"  continued  Dick. 
"You  see  we  can't  stay  very  long." 

"  Who're  you  talking  to  ?  "  growled  the 
mate. 

"  I'm  a-looking  right  at  you." 

It  was  an  awkward  moment  for  McGlory. 
He  felt  that  it  was  downright  necessary  to 
show  his  superiority,  for  it  is  only  by  such  a 
show  that  women  like  Estelle  are  kept  con 
stant.  On  the  other  hand,  even  he  understood 
the  danger  of  openly  defying  his  captain.  But 
the  seconds  were  flying. 

"You  go  back  to  your  schooner,  Dick 
Smiley.  You  ain't  boss  here." 


n4  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

"Well,  by  —  "  Dick  checked  himself, with  a 
half  bow  toward  Estelle.  "  I  beg  your  par 
don,  my  dear.  Your  friend  kind  o'  surprised 
me." 

McGlory  flashed  a  suspicious  glance  at  her. 

"  None  o'  your  jaw  now,  Smiley.  You  can 
do  your  talking  when  it's  time  to  sail.  You'll 
have  to  shut  up  here." 

"  Maybe  you'll  be  good  enough  to  tell  me 
when  you'll  be  ready  to  start,"  suggested  Dick, 
with  extravagant  politeness. 

McGlory  rumbled  an  unintelligible  reply ; 
and  Dick  turned  again  to  Estelle.  "  Will  you 
excuse  him,  my  dear.  You  see  he's  got  a 
previous  engagement  with  me.  But  you 
couldn't  hardly  blame  him  for  forgetting, 
with  such  a  lady  friend  to  talk  to." 

"Look  here,"  McGlory  broke  out;  "you've 
said  enough.  You  go  back  to  your  schooner 
where  you  belong  !  " 

"  Thanks,  I'm  going.  We're  all  going. 
You'll  come  with  us,  my  dear  ? " 

Estelle,  who  was  plunged  in  confusion,  said 
nothing,  but  fell  in  with  him.  And  McGlory, 
fuming,  had  to  follow. 

The  east  wind  was  freshening ;  the  sky  was 


THE   CIRCLE   MARK  115 

darker.  Spencer,  who  stood  awaiting  them  on 
the  wharf,  shook  his  head  at  Dick.  "  You 
aren't  going  to  start  now,  are  you3  Cap'n?" 

"  Sure  we  are." 

"  It's  mean  business  with  an  east  wind. 
But  still  McGlory  knows  the  channel." 

"  McGlory  be !  "  said  Dick,  throwing 

off  his  ceremonial  manner  now  that  Estelle  had 
escaped  to  the  house.  "  I'd  take  her  through 
hell  for  fifty  cents.  Just  watch  my  smoke." 

Spencer  said  nothing  further.  The  mate 
was  ordered  up  forward ;  the  lines  were  cast 
off;  Dick  took  the  wheel.  And  out  they  went, 
with  a  reckless  daring  that  made  Spencer  and 
Pink  Harper  smile  from  different  motives. 

"  He's  going  to  butt  a  hole  clean  through 
Middle  Island,"  muttered  the  lumberman. 
But  before  the  words  were  out,  the  Merry 
Anne  swung  cheerily  about  and  went  skim 
ming  along  the  channel  bank.  Soon  she 
rounded  the  island  in  safety  and  disappeared. 

Not  until  they  were  fairly  out  on  Lake 
Huron  did  Dick  call  his  mate.  Then  he 
gave  up  the  wheel  without  a  word  and  stum 
bled  down  into  the  cabin.  His  high  spirits 
had  given  place  to  weariness  and  depression ; 


n6  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

and,  dropping  down  for  a  moment  on  his  bunk, 
he  fell  asleep. 

On  deck  McGlory,  with  an  expression  of 
smouldering  anger,  stood  at  the  wheel,  glanc 
ing  now  at  the  sails,  now  at  the  water,  now  at 
the  receding  shore.  If  his  eyes  could  have 
penetrated  the  bluffs  and  the  forest,  he  would 
not  have  been  happier.  For  Estelle,  who 
seemed  to  be  the  victim  of  her  emotions  to 
day,  was  listening  to  some  earnest  talk  from  a 
boastful  fellow  named  Roche. 


CHAPTER    V 
BURNT   COVE 


CHAPTER   V 
BURNT   COVE 

DURING  the  rest  of  the  afternoon,  during 
the  evening,  on  into  the  night,  Dick's 
hearty  snoring  floated  up  the  companionway. 
At  supper-time  McGlory  called  Ole  Larsen  to 
the  wheel,  and  went  below.  The  Swede  looked 
after  him  and  observed  that  he  took  the  steps 
slowly  and  cautiously,  and  was  more  quiet  than 
usual  in  the  cabin.  From  the  mate  his  attention 
turned  to  the  binnacle.  His  instructions  were  to 
hold  the  course,  nor'east,  pointing  into  the  wind 
with  the  sheets  hauled  close.  Ordinarily  he 
would  not  have  taken  the  trouble  to  question 
any  orders  that  might  have  been  given  him, 
but  the  dislike  and  distrust  all  the  crew  felt  for 
their  new  mate  was  stirring  in  his  mind.  He 
took  occasion,  when  Harper  came  aft  about 
some  work,  to  beckon  him  and  point  to  the 
compass. 

119 


120  THE   MERRY  4NNE 

"  Aye  tank  we  don'  go  at  Mackinaw,  no," 
he  said  in  a  half  whisper. 

"  Is  that  the  course  he  gave  you  ? " 

"Ya-as,  dat's  her." 

"  I  was  thinkin'  myself  it  was  funny.  Near's 
I  can  figure,  we're  pointin'  for  Manitoulin 
Island.  Now  what  in  thunder —  Look  here, 
Ole  —  first  chance  I  get  I'm  goin'  to  wake  the 
Cap'n." 

"  Aye  tank  we  do  dat,  ya-as." 

They  had  dropped  their  voices,  but  Mc- 
Glory  had  heard  them.  He  now  came  tip 
toeing  up  the  companion  steps,  wearing  an  ugly 
scowl.  "  Go  up  forward,"  he  commanded, 
addressing  Harper. 

"  I  was  just  askin'  about  the  course, 
Mr.  McGlory.  It  didn't  quite  seem  to 
me  —  " 

"  Go  up  forward  !  " 

Pink  hesitated,  then  he  raised  his  voice. 
"  Cap'n  Smiley  generally  likes  me  to  wake  him 
when  he's  slept  as  long's  this." 

"  Go  up  forward." 

"Well  —  " 

He  was  starting,  but  he  moved  too  slowly. 
McGlory's  temper  gave  way,  and  he  struck 


BURNT   COVE  121 

him,  with  the  back  of  his  hand,  across  the 
face. 

"You  hit  me!"  The  blood  rushed  into 
Harper's  face ;  he  drew  himself  up,  his  fists 
contracting,  the  muscles  of  his  bare  forearms 
knotting.  Ole  gazed  impassively  at  the  com 
pass,  but  his  fingers  were  twitching  on  the 
spokes  of  the  wheel ;  he  saw  from  the  expres 
sion  of  Harper's  eyes  that  the  boy  needed  no 
assistance.  For  one  tense  moment,  as  they 
stood  there  on  the  sloping  deck,  a  faint  light 
shining  on  them  from  the  open  companion- 
way,  anything  seemed  possible.  Had  Mc- 
Glory  been  a  coward  he  would  have  retreated 
from  the  blazing  figure  before  him ;  but  he 
was  not  a  coward.  Instead  of  retreating,  he 
stepped  forward,  gripped  Harper's  arm,  and 
whirled  him  around.  "  Go  up  forward  !  "  he 
said  for  the  fourth  time.  And  Pink,  swallow 
ing  hard,  went. 

A  gentle  sigh  escaped  the  wheelsman.  The 
mate  turned  on  him ;  but  Ole  was  gazing  out 
into  the  dark  with  an  expressionless  face.  Into 
the  silence  that  followed  came  a  gurgling  snore 
from  the  cabin ;  if  Pink  had  hoped  to  wake 
the  captain,  he  had  failed.  And  the  end  of 


122  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

this  brief  incident  was  that  McGlory  returned 
below  and  finished  his  supper,  while  the  Merry 
Anne  continued  to  point  nor'east. 

Towards  eleven  o'clock  the  moon  rose  and 
showed  Duck  Island  six  miles  off  the  port 
bow.  McGlory  was  again  at  the  wheel.  He 
now  brought  her  up  still  closer  to  the  wind, 
heading  a  few  points  off  Outer  Duck  Island 
and  skimming  the  lower  edge  of  Jennie 
Graham  Shoal.  Huddled  up  in  the  bow,  out  of 
the  mate's  view,  Harper  and  Larsen  were  watch 
ing  out  ahead,  pulling  at  their  pipes  and  occa 
sionally  exchanging  a  whispered  word  or  two. 
Linding,  the  third  sailor,  lay  flat  on  the  deck 
by  the  windlass,  his  head  pillowed  on  a  coil  of 
rope,  the  regular  sound  of  his  breathing  telling 
that  he  was  asleep.  Soon  Ole's  practised  eyes 
made  out  a  bit  of  land  far  off  to  port,  and  he 
pointed  it  out  to  his  companion. 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Meedle  Dook  Island,  ya-as." 

A  few  minutes  more  and  they  saw  a  line  of 
coast  dead  ahead. 

"  Manitoulin  Island  ?  "  whispered  Pink. 

"  Aye  tank." 

On  they  went   until  the  shore  lay  plainly 


BURNT   COVE  123 

before  them  in  the  moonlight,  —  on  until  the 
breeze  began  to  fail  them,  so  close  were  they 
in  the  shelter  of  the  land.  Finally  they  heard 
McGlory  say  in  a  guarded  voice,  "  Ready 
about,  up  there ! "  and  they  sprang  to  their 
places. 

It  proved  a  short  tack.  Hardly  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  later,  when  the  land  had  faded 
but  a  little  way  into  the  indistinct  night,  they 
came  about  again.  This  time  they  ran  in  so 
directly  for  the  land  that  Pink  grew  nervous. 
He  stood  up,  pipe  in  hand,  looking  back  at 
the  mate,  then  forward  at  the  shore.  The 
breeze  fell  away,  but  they  drifted  on  through  a 
mirror  of  shapes  and  shadows.  The  trees  of 
the  bank  loomed  before  them,  then,  it  seemed, 
around  them. 

Still  the  Merry  Anne  drifted  on,  her  wheels 
man  turning  every  stray  breath  to  advantage. 
She  was  in  a  cove  now,  though  how  wide  it 
was  or  how  far  it  extended  the  sailors  could  not 
tell,  so  strangely  were  the  bluffs  and  the  trees 
reflected  in  the  water.  Drifting,  however,  is 
lazy  work,  and  Harper  sat  down  to  it  and 
relighted  his  pipe.  At  length  the  schooner 
came  lazily  up  into  the  wind  and  McGlory 


124  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

ordered  the  anchor  overboard.  Here  was  a 
chance  to  try  to  wake  the  Captain,  and  the 
chance  was  seized ;  but  even  the  clank  and 
rattle  of  the  chain  failed  to  interrupt  the 
snoring  in  the  cabin. 

"  Linding,"  said  McGlory,  "  come  back 
here." 

Larsen  and  Harper  looked  at  each  other, 
—  they  had  not  told  Linding,  —  then  between 
them  they  woke  him  and  sent  him  aft. 

Without  a  word  the  mate  motioned  the 
sailor  to  help  him  lower  the  boat  over  the 
stern. 

"  He's  goin'  ashore,"  whispered  Harper. 
Ole  nodded.  "  He's  beckonin'  for  us  —  say, 
Ole,  shall  we  go  ? " 

But  the  Swede  started  promptly  aft.  The 
habit  of  obedience  is  so  strong  in  a  well-dis 
posed  sailor  that  only  great  provocation  will 
overthrow  it.  With  but  a  moment's  hesita 
tion,  Harper  followed. 

"  Climb  down  there,"  said  the  mate  ;  "  and 
mind  you're  quiet  about  it." 

Down  they  went ;  McGlory  came  after  and 
took  the  rudder ;  and,  propelled  by  two  pairs 
of  oars,  the  boat  slipped  away,  crossed  a  patch 


BURNT   COVE  125 

of  moonlight,  and  entered  the  mysterious 
region  of  shadows. 

"  Way  enough  —  easy  now  !  " 

They  literally  could  not  distinguish  the 
shore  —  it  was  all  distorted,  unnatural.  They 
dragged  the  oars  in  the  water  and  looked  over 
their  shoulders.  Linding  was  in  the  bow  with 
a  long  boat-hook  ready  in  his  hands.  Then 
they  found  themselves  floating  quietly  along 
side  a  narrow  landing  pier,  and  it  was  neces 
sary  to  tumble  in  the  oars  in  a  hurry. 

Linding  checked  the  boat's  headway,  the 
others  reached  out  and  caught  the  planking 
with  their  hands ;  and  McGlory  stepped  out. 

"  Make  her  fast,"  he  said,  "  and  come 
ashore." 

They  obeyed. 

"  Now,  boys,"  —  he  seemed  of  a  sudden  to 
be  making  an  attempt  at  good-nature,  —  "I 
want  you  to  wait  here  for  me.  I'll  be  back  in 
five  minutes."  And  walking  along  a  path  that 
mounted  the  bluff,  he  left  them  standing  there. 

For  a  few  moments  they  were  silent.  Then 
Harper  spoke  up :  "  Look  here  fellows,  I 
don't  know  how  it  strikes  you,  but  I'm  hanged 
if  I  like  this  way  o'  doin'  business.  What  we'd 


ia6  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

better  do  is  to  pull  right  back  an'  wake  the 

/""     j    >i 

Lap  n. 

"  Meester  McGlory,  she  haf  geef  us  orders, 
ya-as  ? " 

"  What's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ? " 

But  the  two  Swedes  shook  their  heads. 
They  were  slow  of  body  and  mind ;  the  idea 
of  rowing  off  without  the  mate  was  too  daring. 

"  You  won't  do  it,  then  ?  " 

They  looked  at  each  other. 

"All  right,"  said  Harper,  pulling  off  his 
coat,  "all  right.  Have  it  your  way.  But 
I'm  goin'  back,  an'  I'm  goin'  now."  He  tossed 
his  coat  into  the  boat,  pulled  off  his  boots  and 
threw  them  after,  let  himself  down  into  the 
water,  waded  a  few  steps,  and  struck  out  for  the 
schooner.  It  was  but  a  little  way.  He  swam 
around  to  the  stern,  and  drew  himself  up  by 
the  boat  tackle,  which  had  been  left  hanging 
down  close  to  the  water.  Rushing  down  into 
the  cabin,  where  a  single  lantern  burned  dimly, 
he  bent  over  the  Captain,  who  lay  dressed  in 
his  bunk,  and  shook  him. 

"  Wake  up,  Cap'n,  wake  up  !  " 

"  Lemme  be,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Wake  up  !     It's  me  —  Harper." 


BURNT   COVE 


127 


"  I  don't  care  if  it  is.  You  needn't  drown 
me." 

"  But,  Cap'n  !  " 

"Well,  what's  the  row?"  Slowly  Dick 
raised  his  head  and  looked  around.  "  Good 
Lord  !  What  time  is  it  ?  " 

"Twelve  o'clock." 

"Twelve  o'clock  what  I  " 

"  Midnight." 

"  Midnight  your  gran'rna  !  " 

"  But  it  is.     Mr.  McGlory,  he  —  " 

"  Just  let  go  o'  me,  will  you  ?  Go  over  there 
and  drip  on  the  steps."  Dick  was  slowly 
swinging  his  feet  around  and  sitting  up. 
"You've  soaked  my  bedding  now.  What's 
the  matter  with  you  anyhow  ?  Been  trying  to 
swim  home  ? " 

"  No,  Cap'n,  but  Ole  says  we're  up  at  —  " 

"  See  here,  why  haven't  I  been  waked  up  ? " 

"  Mr.  McGlory  wouldn't  let  me  wake  you." 

"  Wouldn't  let  you  ?  " 

"No,  he  —  " 

"  What's  the  matter  with  your  lip  ?  " 

"  McGlory  hit  me." 

"  Hit  you ! "  Dick  sprang  to  his  feet. 
"What  in  thunder  are  you  talking  about?" 


128  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

"  I'm  tryin'  to  tell  you,  Cap'n,  if  you'll  just 
listen  —  " 

"  Go  on,  be  quick  about  it." 

"You've  been  sleepin'  ever  since  we  left 
Middle  Island.  Ole  an'  me  we  seen  that  the 
course  was  nor'east  instead  o'  nor' west,  an'  I 
was  goin'  to  wake  you,  but  he  wouldn't  let  me, 
an'  I  hollered  loud  but  it  didn't  wake  you,  an' 
now  we're  in  a  place  Ole  thinks  is  Burnt  Cove 
on  Manitoulin  Island,  an'  — an'  Mr.  McGlory's 
made  me  row  him  ashore,  an'  told  us  to  wait 
there  for  him,  an'  I  swum  back  to  wake 
you  —  " 

Dick  was  standing  close  to  Harper,  staring 
at  him  with  a  mixture  of  astonishment  and  in 
credulity.  Now  he  brushed  him  aside  and  ran 
up  the  steps.  Sure  enough,  on  every  side  were 
trees  and  the  shadows  of  trees.  The  Lake  was 
not  to  be  seen.  He  turned  again  to  Harper 
who  was  close  at  his  elbow.  "Where's  the 
boat?" 

"  Right  over  there  —  not  a  hundred  yards." 

"  Ole  !  "  called  Dick. 

"Ya-as." 

"  Bring  that  boat  back  and  hustle  about  it." 

In  a  moment  they  heard   the  clanking  of 


BURNT   COVE  129 

oars,  and  soon  the  boat  appeared  in  the  moon 
light  and  ran  alongside. 

"  What  are  you  doing  there  ?  "  said  Dick. 

"  Mees'  McGlory,  she  say  to  wait." 

"  Oh,  she  does,  does  she !  Well,  we'll  see 
about  it."  He  leaped  down  to  the  boat  and 
took  the  stern.  "  Pull  ashore." 

"  Cap'n,"  said  Harper,  "  will  you  let  me 
go?" 

"  Sure,  if  you  want  to.  Take  Linding's 
place.  Linding,  you  stay  on  the  schooner. 
And  mind,  there's  nobody  but  me  giving 
orders  around  here.  Pull  away,  boys." 

The  landing  pier  was  deserted  when  they 
ran  alongside.  "  Which  way  did  he  go  ?  " 
asked  Dick,  as  he  stepped  out. 

Harper  pointed  at  the  dim  path. 

"  How  long  ago  was  it  ?  " 

"Just  a  few  minutes." 

"All  right.  We'll  wait  here."  He  sat 
down  with  his  back  against  a  post,  and  filled 
his  pipe.  "  Got  a  match,  Pink  ?  Oh,  I  for 
got,  you're  wet.  Ole,  give  me  a  match."  He 
lighted  up  and  settled  back  to  smoke  and 
think. 

McGlory  had  evidently  walked  some  little 


130  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

distance  back  from  the  Cove,  for  nearly  ten 
minutes  passed  before  they  heard  his  step  in 
the  brush.  Dick  sat  still  until  he  saw  the 
mate  coming  down  the  bluff,  then  he  said, 
"  Get  aboard,  McGlory." 

At  the  first  word  McGlory  stopped  short. 

"  Well,"  Dick  added,  rising,  "  how  long  are 
you  going  to  keep  us  waiting? " 

Still  there  was  no  word  from  the  motionless 
figure.  Not  until  Dick  stepped  to  the  stern 
of  the  boat  did  he  speak.  "  Come  up  here  a 
minute,  will  you,  Cap'n  ?  I  want  to  speak  to 
you." 

"  You  can  do  any  speaking  you  have  to  do 
on  the  schooner.  Swing  around,  Pink.  I'll 
hold  her." 

"Just  a  minute,  Cap'n,  you  know  what  I 
mean." 

"  All  I  know  about  you  is  that  you  can't  be 
trusted." 

"  Seems  to  me  you're  gettin'  mighty  innocent 
all  to  once." 

"  You  can  have  your  choice,  McGlory,  of 
getting  aboard  or  staying  behind.  For  my 
part,  I'd  a  heap  sight  rather  leave  you  behind." 

"  You  needn't  talk  that  way.     I  know  what 


BURNT   COVE  131 

I'm  doin'  —  I  know  I'm  not  to  talk  to 
you  —  " 

"  All  right,  Pink,"  —  Dick  stepped  into  the 
boat,  —  "let  her  go." 

McGlory  turned  and  looked  back  up  the 
path,  as  if  listening.  Then  suddenly  he  ran 
out  on  the  landing  and  got  aboard  just  as  the 
men  were  pushing  off.  He  took  the  bow 
thwart,  and  settled  down  without  a  word. 
When  they  reached  the  schooner,  he  got  out 
the  boat-hook,  and  held  her  steady  while  Dick 
climbed  out. 

"That'll  do  there,"  said  Dick,  when  Mc 
Glory  and  Larsen  were  hoisting  the  boat  up  to 
the  davits.  "  Let  her  down  again.  Pink,  you'd 
better  take  Linding  and  sound  the  channel 
ahead  of  us.  We'll  start  right  out." 

"  That  ain't  necessary,"  put  in  the  mate, 
hurriedly ;  "  I  can  take  her  out." 

Dick  turned  and  looked  him  over  sharply. 
"  How  do  I  know  you  wouldn't  run  her 
aground  ?  You  seem  to  be  raising  the  devil 
generally." 

"  I  ain't  a  fool,"  replied  the  mate,  with  an 
impatient  gesture. 

"  I'd  feel  a  little  safer  if  you  were.     Well, 


i32  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

all  right,  Pink,  make  her  fast.  We'll  let  him 
try  it." 

McGlory  took  the  wheel,  and  Dick  sat  by 
him  on  the  cabin  trunk.  They  went  out  as 
they  had  come  in,  gaining  a  rod  here  and  a 
yard  there,  as  the  vagrant  night  breezes  stirred 
the  trees  and  faintly  rippled  the  water.  Up 
forward  the  men  settled  down  as  quietly  as  if 
working  out  of  Burnt  Cove  after  midnight  were 
a  part  of  the  daily  routine.  Dick  smoked  in 
silence.  The  mate  alone  was  nervous.  For 
some  reason  he  seemed  as  anxious  now  to  get 
out  of  the  Cove  as  he  had  been  to  get  into  it. 
Occasionally  his  eyes  wandered  back  toward 
the  darker  spot  where  the  landing  was.  Once 
he  seemed  to  hear  something,  —  they  were  then 
in  sight  of  the  open  lake,  —  and  he  swung  her 
off  quickly  to  gain  headway.  Finally  Dick 
asked :  — 

"  Got  another  o*  your  lady  friends  stowed 
away  up  here  ?  " 

The  mate  grunted. 

"  Maybe  you  thought  you'd  just  drop 
around  for  a  little  call.  That  the  idea  ? " 

"  No,  that  ain't  the  idea." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  a  Mormon." 


BURNT   COVE  133 

Another  grunt. 

"  Case  o'  temporary  mental  aberration,  per 
haps.  You  thought  you  owned  the  schooner. 
Or  maybe  you  dreamed  I  was  going  to  give 
it  to  you  —  not  for  its  intrinsic  value,  but  as 
a  token  of  affection  and  esteem.  That  it  ? " 

"  No,  that  ain't  it,  an'  you  know  it  ain't." 

"  Oh,  I'm  in  the  secret,  am  I  ?  " 

McGlory  leaned  across  the  wheel  and  looked 
at  him.  "  Are  you  a-tryin'  to  make  me  think 
you  don't  know  why  I  come  here  ?  " 

"  I  certainly  am." 

"  Well,  you  beat  me." 

"  Then  we're  in  the  same  condition.  It 
isn't  exactly  usual,  you  know,  to  take  another 
man's  schooner  off  for  a  summer  cruise  without 
asking  him  if  he  don't  mind.  Of  course,  be 
tween  friends,  it's  all  right  —  only  there  are 
some  little  formalities  that  are  customary. 
But  I  suppose  you  aren't  going  to  tell  me 
anything  about  it  —  why  you  did  it." 

The  mate  said  nothing.  They  were  now 
slipping  out  into  deep  water,  where  the  breeze 
could  fill  the  sails,  and  the  schooner  began  to 
heel  and  to  nose  through  the  ripples  with  a 
grateful  sound.  The  light  was  stronger  out 


134  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

here,  and  the  mate  could  see  the  Captain's  face 
more  plainly.  What  he  saw  there  answered 
several  questions  that  lay,  unspoken,  in  his 
mind. 

"I'll  take  the  wheel  now,"  said  Dick. 
"  Hold  on,  don't  you  go  forward.  Wait  here 
till  I  get  through  with  you."  He  raised  his 
voice  and  called  to  the  others.  "  Come  back 
here,  boys,  all  o'  you."  And  when  the  crew  was 
grouped  about  the  wheel :  "  Pink,  here,  is 
going  to  be  my  mate  for  the  rest  o'  this  trip. 
I  want  you  to  take  his  orders  the  same  as  if 
they  were  mine.  McGlory  has  nothing  more 
to  say  on  this  schooner.  That's  all." 

The  men  looked  at  each  other.  The  Swedes 
were  slow  to  grasp  what  was  said.  McGlory 
stood  back  in  the  shadow,  and  his  face  told 
nothing.  Harper  was  excited. 

"  That's  all,  I  tell  you.     You  can  go  back." 

They  went  at  this  —  all  but  Pink,  who 
lingered. 

«Cap'n  —  " 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"  I  was  just  goin'  to  say  —  it's  more'n  square 
—  you've  been  more'n  white  to  me  —  " 

"  Hold  on  there.     You  needn't  bother  about 


BURNT   COVE  135 

engrossing  any  resolutions.  You'll  find  it 
hard  enough." 

"Well  — I'm  mighty  obliged  for  —  " 

«  Not  at  all." 

Thirty-six  hours  later,  when  the  Merry  Anne 
was  slipping  through  the  islands  west  of  the 
straits  and  heading  southward  for  the  run  down 
Lake  Michigan,  McGlory  slipped  aft  and 
addressed  Harper,  who  had  the  wheel.  "  I 
was  sort  o'  hasty  awhile  ago,  Pink,  when  I 
hit  you  that  time.  I  hope  you  ain't  a-layin' 
it  up  against  me." 

Pink  stared  at  him,  but  offered  no  reply. 

"  I  was  a  little  excited.  You  see,  Cap'n 
Smiley's  a  good  sailor,  but  he  don't  know 
where  his  own  interest  is." 

"  I  ain't  got  nothin'  to  say  to  you  about 
Cap'n  Smiley." 

"  I  know.  Say,  you  ain't  got  no  objections 
to  turnin'  an  honest  penny,  have  you  ? 

"  That  depends." 

"  Or  say  maybe  it  was  a  neat  little  five 
hundred  —  good  hard  stuff." 

"  Where's  it  comin'  from  ?  " 

"  You  know  where  we  was  —  over  in 
Canada  ?  " 


136  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  I  ought  to." 

"  Well,  Smiley  knows  all  about  that." 

«  The he  does  !  " 

"  Sure  thing.  He's  been  there  before, 
more'n  once." 

"  Funny  he  didn't  know  the  channel  then. 
There  ain't  a  place  around  the  Lakes  he 
couldn't  sail  the  Anne  through  if  he'd  smelled 
it  once." 

"  I  know.  That's  the  queer  part  of  it. 
He  knows  it  with  his  eyes  shut.  He  had 
some  reason  or  other  for  puttin'  up  the  bluff 
he  did,  an'  I'd  give  just  about  ten  round 
dollars  to  know  what  it  was." 

"  Better  ask  him." 

"  Watch  me.  This  ain't  the  kind  o'  thing 
you  can  talk  out  about.  I  know  he  knows, 
an'  he  knows  I  know ;  but  he's  down  on  me 

an'    there's    nothin'    I    can    say  —  here,    any- 

» 
way. 

"  What  do  you  want  o'  me  ?  " 

"You're  the  right  sort  —  you've  got  nerve 
an'  a  head  on  you.  Help  me  carry  this 
business  through,  an'  I'll  divvy  up  with  you  — 
five  hundred,  sure,  to  start  with." 

"  What  am  I  to  do  ?  " 


BURNT    COVE  137 

"  Nothin'  hard.  You've  got  a  good  stand 
in  with  Smiley.  Just  put  in  a  word  for  me, 
so's  he  won't  fire  me  before  another  trip,  any 
way.  You  fellows  made  a  mistake  this  time 
in  not  standin'  by  me.  I  can  do  better  by 
you  than  he  can  —  a  lot  better.  Help  me 
to  stay  aboard  for  the  next  trip,  an'  I'll  hand 
you  fifty  right  now  for  a  sweetener." 

"  Well,  I'll  see  what  I  can  do." 

"  I've  got  the  fifty  down  below.     I'll  get  it." 

"  Hold  on  —  don't  be  in  a  hurry.  You'd 
better  see  what  I  can  do  for  you  before  you  do 
any  sweetenin'." 

McGlory  nodded  and  slipped  back  to  his 
station.  When  the  watch  was  changed,  he 
went  below  and  settled  down  to  writing  a 
letter  on  crumpled  paper  with  a  pencil.  He 
seemed  to  be  thinking  hard.  Three  times 
he  made  a  start,  only  to  hold  the  paper  up 
to  the  lantern,  shake  his  head  over  it,  tear  it 
up,  and  stuff  the  pieces  into  his  pocket.  But 
the  fourth  attempt,  which  follows,  suited  him 
better. 

"  DEAR  ESTELLE  :  I  ain't  done  the  trick 
I  was  going  to  do  this  trip.  The  Captain 


138  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

woke  up  too  soon  and  stoped  me.  But  I've 
got  a  fellow  here  on  bord  that's  going  to  see 
me  threw  next  trip  so  don't  you  go  down  to 
Saginaw  yet.  Wait  til  you  see  me  at  Spencer's 
and  He  tell  you  al  about  the  scheme  itll  be 
worth  a  thousand  cool  anyway  I  should  say 
its  worth  waiting  for.  I'm  doing  it  for  you 
you  know  so  don't  you  get  impatent  but  just 
wait  a  litle  longer  and  we'll  have  a  gay  old 
time. 

"JOE." 

When  he  gave  the  wheel  to  Dick,  Harper 
repeated  to  him  the  whole  conversation  and 
asked  him  what  he  made  of  it. 

"  Give  it  up." 

"  You  don't  think  he's  layin'  for  you,  do 
you  ?  I  couldn't  tell  what  he  was  up  to. 
Of  course  he  wouldn't  hardly  let  me  see 
into  his  game  the  first  time  we  talked." 

"Oh,  no,  — hardly." 

"  Will  I  go  on  lettin'  him  talk  to  me  ?  " 

"  If  you  see  any  fun  in  it." 

"It  ain't  that  —  I  thought  maybe  we  could 
find  out  what  he's  after." 

"  I  don't  want  to  know  about  it." 


BURNT   COVE  139 

"  But  you  don't  think  he'll  try  to  —  stick  it 
into  you  anyway  ?  " 

"  Let  him  try.     He  can't  do  much  harm." 

"Well  —  " 

"  Take  my  advice,  Pink,  and  quit  thinking 
about  him.  I  don't  like  this  business  any 
more  than  you  do,  but  the  worse  it  is  the  less 
I  want  to  know  about  it.  When  we  get  back 
we'll  fire  him,  and  that  will  end  it." 

"  Don't  you  think  we'd  better  tie  him  up, 
or  somethin'  ?  " 

"That  wouldn't  do  any  good.  You'd  better 
tumble  below  and  get  some  sleep.  There's 
nothing  like  it  when  you're  a  little  worked 
up." 

Dick  had  indeed  something  else  to  think  of 
than  his  rascal  of  a  mate.  Only  four  days  of 
sailing,  if  the  wind  should  hold,  lay  between 
the  Merry  Anne  and  the  Annie  for  whom  she 
had  been  named.  These  days  would  slip  away 
before  he  knew  it,  and  then  ?  The  uncertainty 
was  hard,  but  still  he  dreaded  the  meeting  — 
that  might  be  harder  still. 

Off  Waukegan  on  the  last  day  the  wind 
swung  around  to  the  south,  nearly  dead  ahead ; 
and  as  the  schooner  lost  headway  and  was  forced 


i4o  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

into  beating  to  windward,  the  dread  suddenly 
gave  place  to  impatience.  So  variable  were  his 
thoughts  indeed,  as  the  miles  slipped  astern 
and  the  long  green  bluff  that  ends  in  Grosse 
Pointe  grew  nearer  and  plainer,  that  his  courage 
oozed  away. 

Far  down  the  Lake,  between  the  Lake  View 
crib  and  the  horizon,  was  a  speck  of  a  sail. 
Dick's  heart  sank  —  he  knew  as  if  he  could 
make  out  the  painted  name  that  it  was  the 
Captain.  He  watched  it  hungrily  as  the  Merry 
Anney  headed  in  close  to  the  waterworks  pier, 
swept  easily  around,  and  started  on  the  last 
outward  tack.  Then  he  called  to  Pink,  and 
had  the  sheets  hauled  close ;  and  he  laughed 
softly  and  nervously  as  the  schooner  responded 
with  a  list  to  port  and  a  merry  little  fling  of 
spray.  He  could  at  least  come  in  with  a  rush, 
with  all  his  colors  flying. 

He  was  waiting  for  the  tiny  sail  to  swing 
around  and  point  northward.  He  was  dis 
appointed.  He  reached  for  the  glass  and  took 
a  long  look  —  then  lowered  it,  and  smiled  bit 
terly.  There  were  two  figures  seated  in  the 
stern  of  the  Captain. 

The  Schmidt  was  lying  on  the  south  side  of 


BURNT   COVE  141 

the  pier ;  and  the  wind  enabled  Dick  to  come 
easily  up  on  the  opposite  side  and  make  fast. 
It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  Dick  released 
the  two  Swedes,  both  of  whom  had  families  on 
shore.  Then  he  crossed  the  pier,  between  the 
high  piles  of  lumber,  and  found  Henry  sitting 
quietly,  as  usual,  in  his  cabin. 

To  the  older  man's  greeting  Dick  responded 
moodily.  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you,  Henry. 
What's  my  reputation,  anyhow,  among  the 
boys  ?  Do  they  call  me  mean,  or  a  driver,  or 
hard  to  get  along  with  ?  " 

Henry  looked  at  him  curiously,  and  shook 
his  head.  "  I  never  heard  anything  of  that 
sort.  Your  row  with  Roche  was  the  only 
thing,  and  I  guess  he  was  a  poor  stick." 

"  Well,  I'm  through  with  McGlory,  too." 

"  Through  with  him  ?  "  Henry  was  startled. 
"  You  haven't  discharged  him  ? " 

"  No,  but  I'm  going  to  to-night.  I've 
brought  him  back  here,  and  he  wants  to  stay, 
but  I  won't  have  him  aboard  another  minute." 

"  What's  the  trouble  ?  " 

Dick  gave  him  the  whole  story,  including 
the  conversation  between  McGlory  and  Harper 
up  in  the  straits. 


i42  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  I  don't  like  the  sound  of  it  very  well,"  said 
Henry,  when  he  had  finished.  "  Couldn't  you 
get  on  with  him  a  little  longer  ? " 

"After  that?" 

"  I  know  —  there  is  some  deviltry  behind  it. 
But  still  he  is  a  good  man.  You'll  have  hard 
work  finding  a  better.  And  honest,  I  would 
kind  of  hate  to  face  Cap'n  Stenzenberger 
myself  with  this  story." 

"  Why  ?  I  can't  have  a  man  around  that's 
going  to  steal  my  schooner  in  my  sleep." 

"  Oh,  well,  he  could  never  do  that  again.  I 
can't  see  what  he  was  thinking  of.  Do  you  see 
into  it  at  all  ? " 

Dick  had  been  staring  at  the  cabin  table. 
At  this  question  he  raised  his  eyes,  for  an 
instant,  with  an  odd  expression.  "  I  know  all 
I  want  to.  The  whole  thing  is  so  outrageous 
that  I  am  not  going  to  try  to  follow  it 
up." 

"He  talked  to  your  man  about  a  rake-off, 
didn't  he  ? " 

Dick  nodded. 

"What  do  you  suppose  he  was  going  to 
rake  ? " 

Dick,  whose  eyes  were   lowered,  and  who 


BURNT   COVE 

was  therefore  unconscious  of  the  pallor  of  his 
cousin's  face,  said  nothing. 

"  I  know  we  don't  look  at  some  things  quite 
the  same,  Dick,"  Henry  went  on.  "  But  if 
anybody  on  my  schooner  is  going  to  do  any 
raking,  he  has  got  to  see  me  first.  A  dollar's 
a  dollar,  my  boy.  When  you  are  my  age,  you 
will  think  so  too." 

"  I  don't  mix  in  this  business." 

"  No  more  would  I.  But  it  seems  to  me,  if 
McGlory's  got  some  way  of  his  own  of  making 
a  little  pile,  and  if  you  could  have  your  share 
for  just  letting  him  stay  aboard,  you'd  be  sort 
of  a  fool  not  to  do  it." 

"Excuse  me!" 

Henry  smiled  indulgently.  "  There's  noth 
ing  very  bad  in  what  you  have  told  me.  Of 
course,  if  there  are  things  you  haven't  told 
me,  it  might  make  a  difference." 

"  You  have  the  whole  story." 

"  Do  you  know,  Dick,  you  make  me  think 
of  the  folks  up  at  the  college  here.  You  know 
that  brewer  that  died  repentant  and  left  five 
hundred  thousand  dollars  to  the  Biblical  School  ? 
Well,  a  lot  of  the  old  preachers  got  stirred  up 
over  it  and  made  them  refuse  the  money  — 


i44  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

made  'em  refuse  five  hundred  thousand  cash  ! 
Good  Lord!  if  these  particular  folks  would 
look  into  the  private  history  of  all  the  dollars  in 
the  country,  they'd  never  touch  one  of  them,  — 
not  one.  There  isn't  a  dollar  of  the  lot  that 
hasn't  got  a  bad  spot  somewhere,  like  the  rest 
of  us.  The  main  thing  is,  are  your  own  hands 
clean  when  you  take  it  ?  If  they  are,  the  dollar 
can't  hurt  you." 

"  But  look  here,  Henry,  my  mind's  made 
up  about  this.  I  won't  have  that  fellow  on  my 
schooner." 

"  Going  to  turn  him  off  to-night  ?  " 

"Yes,  right  now." 

"  All  right.  You  can  send  him  over  here. 
I'll  give  him  a  bunk  till  morning.  But  what 
are  you  going  to  do  for  a  mate  ? " 

"  Pink  is  all  right.  I  could  go  farther  and 
do  worse." 

"All  right.  Tell  Joe  to  bring  his  things 
along." 


CHAPTER    VI 

THE   RED   SEAL   LABEL 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE   RED   SEAL   LABEL 

IT  was  on  Friday  morning  that  the  Merry 
Anne  had  sailed  away  from  Lakeville  for 
her  first  trip  to  Spencer's.  On  this  same 
Friday  another  set  of  persons  were  passing 
through  a  series  of  events  which  concern  this 
story. 

Dick  had  sailed  out  at  daybreak.  A  few 
hours  later,  when  the  morning  was  still  young, 
Roche,  who  had  come  down  by  train  from 
Manistee,  was  hanging  about  near  "  The 
Teamster's  Friend."  now  standing  on  the  cor 
ner  by  the  lumber  office  looking  stealthily  up 
and  down  the  street,  now  passing  by  on  the 
opposite  sidewalk,  closely  watching  the  screened 
windows.  Finally  he  crossed  over  and  entered 
the  saloon  to  ask  for  McGlory.  Murphy,  the 
senior  partner  in  the  business,  who  lived  a  few 
blocks  away,  came  in  for  his  day's  work  and 

147 


148  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

found  Roche  there.  "  McGlory,"  said  Mur 
phy,  "  won't  be  back  for  a  week  or  so."  At 
this,  with  an  angry  exclamation,  Roche  went 
out.  The  quantity  of  bad  whiskey  he  had 
taken  in  since  his  discharge  from  the  Merry 
Anne  at  the  Manistee  pier,  had  not  worked 
to  change  his  humor  or  to  calm  his  faculties. 
He  was  plunging  around  the  lumber  office 
into  a  side  street  when  Beveridge,  who  had 
been  watching  his  every  movement,  accosted 
him. 

"  Beg  pardon,  have  you  got  a  match?  " 

"  Hey  ?     What's  that  ?  " 

"  Have  you  got  a  match  ?  " 

"A  match?     Why,  sure." 

"  Much  obliged.  I've  got  the  cigars.  Better 
make  a  fair  trade.  You'll  find  'em  a  good 
smoke." 

"  Well,  don't  care  'f  I  do.  Here,  you  can't 
light  in  this  wind." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I'm  Irish.  Say,  haven't  I  seen 
you  somewhere  ?  " 

"  Couldn't  say." 

"  Why,  sure  I  have.  Isn't  your  name 
Roche  ? " 

"  That's  what  it  is." 


THE   RED    SEAL   LABEL  149 

"  And  you're  mate  of  the  Merry  Anne,  sail 
ing  out  of  Lakeville  ?  " 

"  You're  wrong  there." 

"  No,  I'm  sure  of  it.  I've  seen  you  too 
many  times." 

"  Why,  do  you  b'long  out  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  live  at  Lakeville." 

"  Well,  look  here ;  I'll  tell  you  how  it  is. 
I  was  on  the  Merry  Anne^  but  I  ain't  any 
more." 

"  Oh,  you  quit  Smiley  ?  " 

"  You're  right,  I  quit  him.  No  more  Smiley 
for  me." 

"What's  the  trouble?" 

"  What  ain't  the  trouble,  you'd  better  say. 
But  I  ain't  tellin'.  Smiley's  done  me  dirt,  an' 
I  know  'im  for  just  what  he  is,  but  I  ain't 
tellin'." 

They  were  passing  another  saloon,  and 
Roche  accepted  an  invitation  to  step  in. 

"  I've  seen  Smiley  a  good  deal  around  the 
piers,"  said  the  young  fellow,  when  they  were 
seated.  "  Likes  to  swagger  some,  doesn't  he  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he's  no  good." 

"  Mean  to  work  for  ?  Those  conceited 
fellows  generally  are." 


150  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  He's  mean,  yes.  But  that  ain't  the  worst 
thing  about  him."  Roche  paused  guardedly, 
and  glanced  around  the  empty  room. 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  him  myself, 
just  seen  him  now  and  then.  But  of  course 
I've  heard  things. 

"  I'll  tell  you  right  here,  you  am't  the  only 
one  that'll  be  hearin'  things  before  much 
longer."  Another  cautious  glance  around. 
"You  don't  happen  to  know  anythin'  about 
law,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I've  studied  it  some." 

"Well,  look  here.  I  know  some  things 
about  Dick  Smiley,  and  if  it  was  worth  my 
while,  I'd  tell  'em.  But  you  see,  I  am  an 
honest  man,  an'  I've  got  my  livin'  to  make, 
an'  he's  just  cute  enough  to  lie  about  me  an' 
try  to  drag  me  down  with  'im.  Folks  might 
say  I  didn't  quit  him  the  first  minute  I  found 
'im  out.  I  can't  run  no  risks,  you  see." 

"  I  can  tell  you  this  much  —  but,  of  course, 
it's  none  of  my  business." 

"  Go  on." 

"  Well,  it  depends  on  the  case.  But  if  he 
has  done  anything  serious,  and  if  the  authori 
ties  find  it  hard  to  get  evidence  against  him, 


THE    RED   SEAL   LABEL  151 

you  probably  wouldn't  have  any  trouble,  even 
if  you  were  right  in  with  him.  A  man  can 
turn  state's  evidence,  you  know." 

"But  I  wasn't  in  with  'im.  When  I'd 
found  him  out,  I  quit  him  —  the  first  good 
chance  I  got." 

"Yes,  of  course.  But  it  all  depends.  I 
couldn't  tell  you  anything  more,  because  I 
don't  know  the  case.  It  all  depends  on  how 
bad  they  want  him." 

"  They  want  him  bad  enough."  He  dropped 
his  voice,  and  leaned  across  the  table.  "  Did 
you  ever  hear  o'  Whiskey  Jim  ?  " 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  —  " 

Roche  nodded. 

"  Why,  man,  you're  rich." 

"  How  do  you  make  that  out  ? " 

"  Haven't  you  seen  the  papers  ? " 

Roche  shook  his  head. 

"There's  a  reward  of  five  thousand  up  for 
Whiskey  Jim," 

"  Who'll  give  it  ?  " 

"  The  Consolidated  Dealers.  You  see,  there 
has  been  a  counterfeit  label,  of  the  Red  Seal 
brand,  on  the  market ;  and  I  understand  the 
liquor  men  have  been  running  it  down  and 


152  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

putting  the  Treasury  Agents  on  the  track  to 
protect  their  business." 

"  Fi'  thousand,  eh  ?  An'  do  you  think  we 
could  make  it  ?  " 

"  If  you  have  the  evidence  to  convict  this 
Whiskey  Jim,  we  can.  But  now,  before  we  go 
into  this,  what  sort  of  an  arrangement  will  you 
make  with  me  if  I  steer  it  through  for  you  ? " 

"  What  would  you  want  ?  " 

"  Well  —  I  should  go  at  it  something  like 
this.  I  should  go  to  the  United  States  Treas 
ury  officials  and  tell  them  I  could  get  them 
the  evidence  they  want  if  they  would  agree 
not  to  prosecute  us.  It  would  take  some 
managing,  but  it  can  be  done.  But  I  can't 
do  it  for  nothing." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Say  one  thousand.  That's  twenty  per 
cent." 

"  Too  much." 

"  Not  for  the  work  to  be  done.  Remember, 
I  agree  to  get  you  off  without  any  more 
trouble  than  just  giving  in  your  evidence." 

"  But  I  don't  need  to  get  off.  I  ain't  done 
nothin'." 

"  No,  I  understand.     Of  course  not." 


THE   RED    SEAL   LABEL          153 

"  Say  five  hundred,  and  it's  a  go." 

"  No,  sir.  I  can't  do  it  for  that.  I  might 
take  seven  hundred  and  fifty,  but  —  " 

"It's  too  much,  a  sight  too  much. 

You'd  ought  to  do  it  for  less." 

"  Couldn't  think  of  it." 

"Well  —  " 

"  Is  it  a  go  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"All  right.  That's  understood.  If  I  can 
get  the  five  thousand  for  you,  you  will  hand 
me  seven  hundred  and  fifty.  Now,  I  suppose 
the  sooner  we  get  at  this,  the  better  for  both 
of  us.  When  can  I  see  you  and  talk  it 
over?" 

"  You  might  come  around  this  afternoon." 

"Say  two  o'clock?" 

"  That's  all  right." 

"  Where  do  you  live  ?  " 

"  I'm  stoppin'  over  on  North  Clark.  Forty- 
two-seventy-two  an*  a  half,  third  floor.  You'll 
be  around,  then,  will  you,  Mr.  —  Mr.  —  " 

"  Bedloe's  my  name.  Yes,  I'll  be  there  at 
two  sharp." 

But  at  two  o'clock,  when  Beveridge  called 
at  the  boarding-house  on  North  Clark  Street  he 


154  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

found  that  Roche  was  gons.  "  He  only 
stopped  here  a  day,"  said  the  landlady.  "  This 
noon  he  paid  me  and  said  he  was  called  out  of 
town  by  a  telegram." 

"  Did  he  say  when  he  would  be  back  ? " 

"  He  didn't  know." 

"  Did  he  leave  his  things  ?  " 

"  No.     What  little  he  had  he  took  along." 

Beveridge  turned  thoughtfully  away  and 
walked  around  the  corner,  where  Wilson  was 
awaiting  him.  He  had  no  means  of  knowing 
that  Roche  was  already  well  on  the  way  to 
Spencer,  where  Smiley  saw  him  a  few  days 
later. 

"  Not  there,  Bill  ?  "  asked  Wilson. 

«No,— skipped." 

"  Lost  his  nerve,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  guess  so." 

"  Well,  what  now  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  until  I  see  Madge  to-night." 

"  Do  you  really  expect  anything  there  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.     It's  a  chance,  that's  all." 

"  Do  you  think  she'll  keep  her  promise  ?  " 

"  Couldn't  say.  I'll  give  her  a  chance,  any 
how." 

She   did  keep  it.     Very  shortly  after  five, 


THE    RED   SEAL   LABEL          155 

while  Beveridge  was  riding  slowly  up  and 
down  near  the  meeting-place,  he  saw  her  com 
ing,  and  his  eyes  lighted  up  with  surprise. 
He  could  not  know  how  much  thought  had 
been  given  to  the  effect  which  pleased  him  so ; 
he  only  observed  that  she  looked  like  a  young 
girl  in  her  short  wheeling  skirt  and  leggings,  and 
with  her  natty  little  cap  and  well-arranged  hair. 

They  found  St.  Paul's  Park  gay  with  lights 
and  music  when  they  arrived.  Dancing  had 
been  going  on  all  the  afternoon  on  the  open- 
air  platform.  The  ring-the-cane  booth,  the 
every- time-you-knock-the-baby-down-you-get- 
a-five-cent-cigar  booth,  were  surrounded  by 
uproarious  country  folk,  with  only  here  and 
there  a  city  face  among  them.  A  little  way 
down  the  slope,  through  the  grove,  ran  the 
sluggish  North  Branch,  a  really  inviting  spot 
in  the  twilight ;  and  to  this  spot  it  was  that 
Beveridge  led  the  way  after  checking  the 
wheels. 

"  The  boats  don't  amount  to  much,"  he 
said  to  Madge,  as  he  helped  her  down  the 
bank,  "  but  I  guess  we  can  have  a  good  time, 
anyhow." 

She  did  not  reply  to  this,  but  there  was  a 


156  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

sparkle  in  her  eyes  and  a  flush  on  her  cheek, 
as  she  stepped  lightly  into  the  boat,  that  drew 
an  admiring  glance  from  Beveridge. 

He  took  the  clumsy  oars,  and  pulled  up 
stream,  under  the  railroad  bridge,  past  all  the 
other  boats,  on  into  the  farming  country,  where 
the  banks  were  green  and  shaded. 

"  Pretty  nice,  isn't  it  ?  "  said  he. 

She  nodded.  They  could  hear  the  music 
in  the  distance,  and  occasionally  the  voices ; 
but  around  them  was  nothing  but  the  cool 
depths  of  an  oak  copse.  She  was  half  reclin 
ing  in  the  stern,  looking  lazily  at  the  dim 
muscular  outlines  of  her  oarsman.  "  You  row 
well,"  she  said. 

"  I  ought  to.     I  was  brought  up  on  water." 

"  You  don't  know  how  this  takes  me  back," 
said  Madge,  dreamily.  "  I  couldn't  tell  you 
how  long  it  is  since  I  have  been  out  in  the 
country  like  this." 

He  pulled  a  few  strokes  before  replying, 
"  Didn't  McGlory  ever  take  you  out  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  to  think  about  him  now. 
Let's  talk  of  something  else." 

"I'm  glad  you  don't  like  to.  That's  the 
only  thing  that  bothers  me." 


THE    RED    SEAL   LABEL  157 

— Joe?" 

"Yes." 

"  Oh,  he  needn't  bother  you." 

"  I  can't  help  it.     You  see,  you're  —  " 

"  His  wife  ?     Yes,  so  I  am.     But  I'm  —  " 

"  What,  Madge  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  would  think  if  I 
said  it." 

"  Say  it,  please." 

She  glanced  into  his  face.  He  saw  with  sur 
prise  that  her  eyes  were  shining.  "  Well  —  I 
was  —  going  to  say  —  that  —  that —  I'm  about 
through  with  him." 

"  Do  you  mean  that,  Madge  ?  " 

She  was  silent ;  perhaps  she  had  not  meant 
to  say  so  much. 

"  Has  he  been  ugly  to  you  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  his  meanness  altogether.  If  that 
were  all,  I  could  have  stood  it.  I  have  tried 
hard  enough  to  love  him  all  the  while.  Even 
after  he  first  struck  me  —  " 

"  You  don't  mean  —  " 

She  smiled,  half  bitterly,  and  rolled  her  sleeve 
up  above  her  elbow.  Even  in  that  faint  light 
he  could  see  the  discoloration  on  her  forearm. 
"  He  meant  it  for  my  head,"  she  said. 


158  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

"  Why,  he's  a  brute." 

She  smiled  again.     "  Didn't  you  know  that 
a  woman    can  love  a  brute  ?     It  wasn't    that. 
Even  when  he  made  me  live  in  the  saloon,  and 
when    I    found    out  what    his    business    really 
was  —  "  she   paused.     "  I  was   brought  up  a 
little  better  than  this,  you  know." 
"  Yes,  I  have  always  thought  that/' 
"And  when  I  learned  that  he  wasn't  —  well, 
honest,  I  don't  believe    I    should   have  cared 
very  much." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  he  is  not  dishonest,  is  he  ? " 
"He    is  bad    enough,  I'm  afraid.     He  —  I 
don't  know  —  I  don't  believe  it  would  do  any 
good  to  tell  you  —  " 

"  No,  don't,  if  you'd  rather  not,  Madge." 
"I  don't  care  —  I'd  just  as  soon.  You 
don't  know  what  a  relief  it  is  to  have  some 
body  I  can  talk  out  with.  I  have  guarded 
my  tongue  so  long.  And  I  suppose,  even 
after  all  that  is  past,  that  if  he  hadn't  left 
me  —  " 

"  You  don't  mean  that  he  has  gone  ?  " 
She  nodded.     "  It  comes  to  the  same  thing. 
He  will    drop    in   once    in     a    while,  I    sup 
pose.     But  he  has  gone  back  to  the  Lake  with 


THE    RED    SEAL   LABEL          159 

Captain  Smiley,  and  that  means  that  he  wants 
to  see  — "  she  turned  toward  the  shadow  of 
the  oaks  —  "  there's  somebody  up  in  Michigan 
that  —  that  he  —  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Beveridge. 

"  Yes,  I  have  known  it  a  long  while."  She 
turned,  looked  at  him,  and  spoke  impetuously  : 
"  Do  you  think  I  haven't  been  fair  to  him  ? 
Do  you  think  he  —  anybody  —  could  say  I 
hadn't  stood  all  a  woman  ought  to  stand  ? " 

Her  real  emotion  caught  Beveridge  off  his 
guard.  For  an  instant  he  hesitated ;  then  he 
said  gently :  "  Don't  let  it  disturb  you  now, 
Madge.  I  don't  think  he  can  bother  you 
much  more.  There  is  no  reason  why  that 
shouldn't  all  slip  into  the  past." 

"  I  wish  it  could." 

Beveridge  was  silent  for  a  moment.  He 
wished  to  lead  her  into  telling  all  she  knew 
about  McGlory  and  his  ways,  yet  he  hesitated 
to  abuse  the  confidence  so  frankly  offered.  But, 
however  —  "  There  is  one  thing  about  it, 
though,  Madge,"  he  said  quietly.  "  If  he  is 
on  the  Lake,  he  will  have  to  go  where  his 
boat  goes,  and  there  isn't  much  chance  for 
him  to  get  into  bad  ways.  Even  if,  as  you 


160  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

think,  he  is  dishonest,  he  will  have  to  behave 
himself  until  he  gets  back  to  town." 

"  You  don't  understand,"  she  cried.  "  It 
is  just  there,  on  the  water,  that  he  can  do 
the  most  harm.  I'm  going  to  tell  you,  any 
way.  I  don't  care.  He  is  a  smuggler,  or  a 
moonshiner,  or  something,  —  I  don't  know 
what  you  would  call  it." 

"A  moonshiner  —  here  in  Chicago!" 
She  nodded  nervously.  "  He  is  only  one 
of  them.  I  have  known  it  for  a  long  time, 
and  sometimes  I  have  thought  I  ought  to 
speak  out,  but  then  he  —  oh,  you  don't  know 
what  a  place  he  has  put  me  into  —  what  he 
has  dragged  me  to  !  There  is  one  thing  I 
will  say  for  Joe,  —  he  is  not  the  worst  of  them. 
The  rest  are  smarter  than  he  is,  and  I  believe 
they  have  used  him  for  a  cat's-paw.  But  he 
is  bad  enough." 

"You  don't  know  how  hard  this  is  to  be 
lieve,  Madge.  That  a  man  sailing  on  a 
decent  lumber  schooner  can  manage  to  do 
enough  moonshining  —  or  even  smuggling  — 
to  hurt  anybody  —  " 

"  But  that  is  just  it !     It  is  in  the  lumber." 
"  In  the  lumber  ! "     He  had  stopped  row- 


THE    RED    SEAL    LABEL          161 

ing,  and  was  leaning  forward.  Had  her  own 
excitement  been  less,  she  could  hardly  have 
failed  to  observe  the  eager  note  in  his  voice. 

"Yes  —  oh,  I  know  about  it.  But  it's  no 
use  saying  anything.  They  will  never  catch 
the  head  man  —  he  is  too  smart  for  them  —  " 

Beveridge  took  her  hand,  and  held  it  gently 
in  both  his  own.  "  Don't  let's  think  any 
more  about  any  of  them,  Madge.  I  don't 
wonder  it  excites  you  —  it  would  anybody. 
But  you  are  through  with  them  all  now." 

She  sat  up,  rigid,  and  looked  at  him.  "  Are 
you  sure  I  am  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  But  how  ?  Joe  is  my  husband.  Tell  me 
what  you  mean.  What  am  I  to  think  ?  You 
see  what  I  have  done.  I  have  let  you  bring 
me  out  here ;  I  have  —  I  have  told  you  things 
that  could  put  Joe  in  prison.  Do  you  —  do 
you  mean  that  you  can  help  me  —  that  I  can 
get  free  from  him  ?  " 

For  a  moment  Beveridge  thought  of  turn 
ing  and  rowing  back.  But  he  was  not  yet 
through.  The  conversation  had  taken  an 
unexpected  turn,  but  he  would  not  retreat 
now. 


1 62  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  You  are  willing  to  be  free  ?  "  he  whispered. 

«Oh  — yes." 

"  To  leave  him  forever  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  we  understand  each  other,  Madge. 
It  may  take  some  time." 

"  I  don't  care  —  I  don't  care  for  anything 
now." 

"  I  shall  have  to  do  some  thinking." 

"  Do  you  think  it  will  be  hard  ?  " 

"  No,  but  we  shall  see.  Shall  we  start 
back  —  I'm  afraid  you  won't  get  home  till 
pretty  late,  now." 

"It  doesn't  matter;  I'm  alone  there  now, 
you  know.  But  still,  perhaps  we'd  better." 

As  they  rowed  down  the  stream,  and  later, 
on  the  ride  back  to  the  city,  Beveridge  could 
not  but  be  fascinated  by  Madge,  in  the  flow 
of  spirits  that  had  come  with  the  freedom  of 
this  evening.  She  liked  to  look  at  him  and 
to  laugh  at  his  little  jokes.  She  caressed 
him  in  a  hundred  ways  with  her  voice  and 
her  eyes.  She  rode  her  wheel  with  the  light 
ness  of  youth,  and  led  the  way  flying  down 
the  paved  streets  of  the  city.  And  when  at 
last  she  dismounted  at  "  The  Teamster's 


THE   RED    SEAL   LABEL          163 

Friend,"  and  unlocked  the  side  door,  she  was 
in  a  merry  glow. 

"  Come  in,"  she  said. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  get  to  sleep  ?  It  is 
late." 

"  I'm  not  tired.  We  must  have  something 
to  eat  after  that  ride.  Wasn't  it  fine  ?  " 

So  he  went  in  with  her,  and  they  sat  down 
to  a  cold  lunch  in  the  dining  room. 

When  he  rose  to  go,  and  they  were  both 
lingering  in  the  dining-room  door,  he  said, 
smiling,  "  By  the  way,  Madge,  while  I  think 
of  it,  I  want  an  empty  bottle." 

"  Come  out  into  the  bar-room.  You  can 
help  yourself." 

She  lighted  the  gas  for  him,  and  he  went  in 
behind  the  bar  and  rummaged  among  some 
bottles  and  flasks  that  stood  on  the  floor.  At 
length  he  found  one  that  seemed  to  suit  him, 
and  stood  a  moment  looking  intently  at  the 
label. 

"  Do  you  find  what  you  want  ? " 

"  Yes,  this  will  do  first-rate." 

She  followed  him  to  the  door,  and  said,  as  he 
stood  on  the  step,  "  When  am  I  to  see  you 
again  ?  " 


i64  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  In  a  few  days." 

"  Not  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  afraid  not.  I  expect  to  be  out  of 
the  city  over  Sunday.  I  have  to  go  where 
I'm  sent,  you  know." 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said,  with  a  smile, 
"you  have  not  told  me  anything  about  your 
business  ?  Why,  I  hardly  think  I  know  any 
thing  about  you." 

"  You  will  soon  know  enough." 

She  smiled  again.  "  Wait,  you  will  have  to 
be  a  little  careful  about  coming.  Mr.  Murphy 
goes  away  about  ten  o'clock  every  night.  You 
might  come  a  little  later,  and  then  if  Joe  isn't 
here,  I  will  be  down.  If  you  don't  see  me, 
you  mustn't  ask  any  questions." 

"  I  won't." 

"  And  you  will  be  thinking  about  —  " 

"  Yes.  We'll  talk  it  over  next  time.  Good 
night." 

"  Good  night,"  she  replied.  And  when  he 
had  walked  a  little  way,  he  heard  her  humming 
a  tune  to  herself  in  the  doorway. 

Wilson  was  sitting  in  the  shadow  on  the  steps 
of  the  lumber  office.  He  rose  and  came  forward. 


THE    RED    SEAL    LABEL  165 

"  Hello,  Bill  !  " 

"  That  you,  Bert  ?  " 

"What's  left  of  me.  If  I'd  known  you 
were  going  to  be  gone  half  the  night,  I'd  have 
brought  a  blanket." 

"  Couldn't  help  it." 

"  I  suppose  not.  Not  even  if  she'd  been 
fifty-five,  with  red  hair  and  a  squint,  eh  ? " 

Beveridge,  instead  of  laughing,  made  an  im 
patient  gesture.  "  Come  out  here  in  the  light, 
Bert.  Nobody  around,  is  there  ?  " 

"  No.  Our  friend  the  policeman  went  by 
ten  minutes  ago.  Just  as  well  he  didn't  see 
you  with  your  friend.  They  say  he's  a  chum 
of  McGlory's." 

"  See  what  you  think  of  this,"  said  Bedloe, 
drawing  the  bottle  from  under  his  coat. 

"  Hello,  you  don't  mean  to  say  you've  got 
it?" 

"  Take  a  good  look." 

"Yes,  sir.  Well,  I'll  be !  There's  the 

red  seal,  and  the  left  foot  a  little  out  of 
drawing,  and  the  right  hand  turned  out  in 
stead  of  in,  and  —  is  it  ?  —  yes,  an  imperfec 
tion  in  the  capital  C.  Yes,  sir,  you've  got  it ! 
I  won't  say  another  word,  Bill.  You're 


1 66  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

a  wizard.  You  must  have  hypnotized 
her." 

"  Well,  I  got  it.  No  matter  how.  And  I 
got  something  else,  too.  Here,  step  into  the 
lumber  yard  before  we're  seen.  Stenzenber- 
ger  doesn't  keep  a  private  watchman,  does 
he?" 

"  No.  He  doesn't  need  it,  with  his  friendly 
hold  on  the  police." 

A  board  was  loose  in  the  rear  fence.  Within 
a  very  few  minutes  the  two  men  were  stepping 
cautiously  between  the  piles  of  lumber,  Bever- 
idge  peering  eagerly  into  the  shadows,  his  com 
panion  watching  him  and  following  close 
behind. 

"  Wish  we'd  brought  a  lantern,  Bill." 

"  I  thought  of  it.  But  it  would  hardly  be 
safe." 

"  Come  this  way  —  over  by  the  Murphy  and 
McGlory  shed.  That's  where  it  would  have 
to  be  handled." 

Silently  they  tiptoed  forward,  reaching  out 
with  their  hands  to  avoid  a  collision  with  the 
projecting  timbers.  Once  Beveridge  tripped 
and  would  have  fallen  if  Wilson  had  not  caught 
his  arm.  "  Wait  —  keep  still,  Bert !  " 


THE    RED    SEAL   LABEL          167 

"  It's  all  right.  We're  way  back  from  the 
street  here." 

"  It  isn't  the  street  I'm  watching.  See  that 
light  ? "  He  pointed  up  to  a  second-story 
window  in  the  adjoining  building.  "  She's  still 
up ;  and  it's  awful  quiet  around  here." 

A  moment  later  Beveridge  stopped  and 
sniffed. 

"  What  is  it,  Bill  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  smell  anything  ?  " 

"Ye-yes,  guess  I  do,  a  little.  But  there 
are  a  lot  of  old  kegs  and  bottles  on  the  other 
side  of  the  fence." 

"There  are  no  old  kegs  about  this."  He 
moved  forward,  feeling  and  sniffing  his  way 
along  a  pile  of  twelve-by-twelve  timbers. 
"  Here,  have  you  that  big  jack-knife  on  you, 
Bert?" 

"  Yes  ;  here  it  is." 

Cautiously,  very  cautiously,  Beveridge  began 
prying  at  the  end  of  one  of  the  big  sticks. 

"  Shall  I  lend  a  hand,  Bill  ?  " 

"  No ;  it's  got  to  be  done  without  leaving 
any  signs  of  our  being  here.  It  may  take 
time  —  the  thing  is  in  for  keeps,  all  right." 

During  fully  a  quarter  of  an  hour  they  stood 


1 68  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

there,  Beveridge  prying  with  the  long  blade  of 
the  knife,  his  companion  watching  him  with 
out  a  word.  Finally  Beveridge  gave  a  sup 
pressed  exclamation. 

"Fetched  her?" 

"  Yes.     Take  hold  —  easy  now." 

Together  they  pulled  a  long,  circular  plug 
from  the  end  of  the  timber,  and  set  it  on  the 
ground. 

"Just  put  your  arm  in  there,  Bert." 

«  Well,  I'll  be !  Did  she  tell  you  about 

this  ? " 

"  She  certainly  did." 

"  But  how  did  you  do  it,  man,  without  let 
ting  on  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  about  that,"  replied  Beveridge, 
shortly. 

"  Yes,  sir.     It's  all  there  —  no  end  of  it." 

"  All  right  now  ;  that's  enough.  Let's  put 
the  plug  back.  Now's  the  time  for  us  to  go 
slow." 

"  You're  right  there.  Even  with  this  it  will 
be  awful  hard  to  bring  it  home.  The  next 
thing  to  get  is  the  man.  I  wish  we  knew 
where  that  fellow  Roche  went.  What  do  you 
think  ?  " 


THE    RED    SEAL   LABEL  169 

"  I'd  be  willing  to  buy  him  a  new  hat  if  he 
isn't  on  the  train  for  northern  Michigan  just 
about  now.  But  we  don't  need  him  very  bad. 
We  want  a  bigger  man  than  him." 


CHAPTER    VII 
DRAWING   TOGETHER 


CHAPTER   VII 

DRAWING   TOGETHER 

THE  eleven  days  Dick  had  given  her  for 
considering  were  going  faster  than  any 
other  days  Annie  had  known.  To  make  it 
worse,  she  had  to  pass  them  alone,  for  Bever- 
idge,  who  was  always  diverting,  hardly  appeared 
after  Dick  sailed  away.  It  was  now  the  after 
noon  of  the  tenth  day,  a  bright,  cool  afternoon 
with  a  southerly  breeze  and  a  rippling  lake. 
She  was  in  her  room,  looking  out  at  the  pier, 
where  the  Schmidt  lay,  when  a  voice  caught  her 
ear.  She  stepped  nearer  to  the  window  and 
then  could  see  Beveridge  and  his  friend  Wilson 
standing  on  the  beach.  While  she  looked, 
Wilson  said  good-by,  and  strolled  over  to  the 
pier ;  and  Beveridge  turned  irresolutely  toward 
the  house  on  stilts,  looking  up  at  the  flowering 
balcony. 

Annie  remembered  that  she  had  not  watered 
173 


174  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

her  flowers.  She  always  waited  until  the 
shadows  crept  around  to  the  eastern  side  of 
the  house ;  they  were  here  now,  so,  filling  her 
pitcher,  she  stepped  out.  Beveridge,  fully  re 
covered  from  the  odd  sensations  of  his  evening 
with  Madge,  raised  his  cap,  but  found  that  she 
had  turned  her  back  on  him  and  was  absorbed 
in  her  forget-me-nots.  "  Annie,"  he  called, 
"  aren't  you  going  to  speak  to  me  ? " 

"  Oh,"  —  she  came  to  the  railing,  —  "  oh, 
how  do  you  do  ?  " 

"  Won't  you  come  out  ?  " 

"Why  —  I  suppose  I  might." 

"  All  right.  I'll  wait  down  here."  When 
she  appeared  on  the  steps,  he  suggested  a  sail. 

"I  don't  mind  —  if  the  wind  holds.  It's 
not  very  strong,  and  it  may  go  down  with  the 
sun."  She  was  looking  about  from  lake  to 
sky  with  the  easy  air  of  a  veteran  mariner ;  and 
he  was  looking  at  her. 

"  Let's  chance  it." 

So  they  pushed  out ;  and  at  the  moment 
when  Dick  and  the  Merry  Anne  were  coasting 
along  the  bluffs  above  Grosse  Pointe  the  Cap 
tain  was  skimming  out  on  a  long  tack  for  the 
Lake  View  reef. 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  175 

Little  was  said  until  they  were  entering  on 
the  second  mile,  then  this  from  Beveridge, 
lounging  on  the  windward  rail,  "  Have  you 
been  thinking  about  our  talk  that  evening, 
Annie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  thought  she ;  but  she  said 
nothing. 

"  You  haven't  forgotten  what  I  said  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the   evening  you  came  up  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  Smiley  came  later." 

"But  you  don't  —  you  don't  want  me  to 
think  that  you  meant  — " 

"  But  I  did,  Annie.  Do  you  remember  I 
told  you  I  thought  I  had  a  fair  chance  to  be 
something  in  the  world?  Well,  I'm  nearer  it 
than  I  thought,  even  then.  There  are  a  good 
many  things  I'm  going  to  tell  you  some  day, — 
not  just  yet,  —  but  when  you  know  them,  you'll 
understand  why  I've  dared  to  talk  this  way. 
If  I  didn't  believe  I  was  going  to  be  able  to  do 
for  you  all  you  could  want,  and  more ;  if  I 
didn't  feel  pretty  sure  I  could  help  you  to 
grow  up  away  from  this  beach,  to  get  into 
surroundings  that  will  set  you  off  as  you  de 
serve,  I'd  never  have  said  a  word.  But  I  can 
do  these  things,  Annie.  And  if  I  could  only 


176  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

know  that  I  had  the  right  to  do  them  for  you 
—  I  want  to  take  you  away  from  here." 

"  But  I  don't  want  to  leave  the  beach." 

"I  know  —  I  think  I  understand  just  how 
you  feel.  It's  natural  —  you  were  born  here — 
you've  never  seen  anything  else.  But  I  can't 
stay  here,  and  I  can't  go  without  you.  I  can't 
get  along  anywhere  without  you." 

"But  —  " 

«  What,  Annie  ? " 

"  You've  got  along  very  —  very  well,  lately." 

"No  —  that's  just  it,  I  haven't.  My  work 
has  kept  me  out  of  town." 

"Your  work?" 

"Yes,  I've  — " 

"  Mr.  Beveridge,  are  you  a  student,  or  aren't 

you?" 
K  T »» 

"  Tell  me,  please.  Some  of  the  things  you 
have  said  I  don't  understand." 

"Well  — no,  I'm  not." 

"Then  what  you  have  said  hasn't  been 
true?" 

"No  —  some  of  it  hasn't." 

"  And  yet  you  —  "     She  hesitated. 

"In   a   very   little   while,   Annie,  —  maybe 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  177 

only  a  day  or  two,  —  some  surprising  things 
are  going  to  happen.  I  wish  I  could  tell  you, 
but  I  can't.  I  have  been  perfectly  honest  with 
you,  —  no,  don't  look  at  me  that  way ;  it  is 
true,  —  and  if  I  have  misled  you  in  one  or  two 
little  things,  it  was  only  because  I  couldn't 
honestly  tell  you  the  whole  truth  yet.  A  few 
days  more,  and  you  shall  know  everything. 
I'm  not  a  student.  If  I  were,  I  could  never 
offer  you  what  I  do  offer  you  now."  He 
straightened  up,  his  eyes  lighted,  and  an  eager 
note  in  his  voice  compelled  her  attention.  "  I 
have  made  a  big  strike,  Annie,  or  so  near 
it  that  it  can't  get  away  from  me  now.  I  have 
no  earthly  business  to  tell  you  this,  —  I  never 
talked  so  to  any  one  before, — but  I  have  offered 
you  everything,  myself  and  all  I  have,  and  it 
would  be  poor  business  not  to  trust  you  with 
part  of  my  secrets,  too.  I  want  you  to  know, 
because  I  trust  you;  and  because  I  —  I'm 
going  to  be  able  to  spare  you  some  disagree 
able  scenes."  He  leaned  forward.  "  Tell  me, 
Annie,  when  does  Dick  Smiley  come  back  ? " 

She  turned  and  looked  up  the  Lake.  His 
eyes  followed  hers ;  there,  on  the  horizon, 
were  the  white  sails  of  the  Merry  Anne. 


178  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Then  I  can  tell  you  sooner  than  I  thought 

—  tc-morrow.     To-morrow  night  I'll  tell  you 
everything.     And  maybe  you  will  tell  me  too 

—  everything.     Will  you,  Annie  ?     If  I  come 
for  you  to-morrow  night  and  tell  you  all  about 
myself,  will  you  give  me  your  answer  ?  " 

She  was  still  looking  northward ;  to-morrow 
was  Dick's  eleventh  day.  "  I  can't,"  she  said 
slowly  ;  "  I  have  an  engagement  for  to-morrow 
evening." 

"  Not  —  not  with  him  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

"  Break  it,  Annie,  break  it.  Or  no,  wait  — 
I  won't  say  that.  We'll  just  leave  it.  I'm 
willing  to  let  it  work  itself  out.  I  think, 
maybe,  when  to-morrow  comes,  you  won't 
want  to  see  him  any  more  than  I  want  you  to. 
I  won't  tell  you  he's  a  rascal;  I'd  rather  let  you 
find  it  out  for  yourself.  I  want  you  to  know 
why  I've  spoken  out  this  way,  and  how  hard 
I  have  tried  to  save  you  from  doing  something 
you  would  regret  all  your  life." 

She  was  bewildered. 

"  Tell  me  this,  Annie,  —  haven't  you  an 
aunt  or  anything  here  in  town  ? " 

Yes,"  —  her    voice    was     hardly    audible, 


«c 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  179 

— "  Aunt  Lizzie  lives  up  by  the  water 
works." 

"  Do  you  go  up  there  much  ?  " 

"  Sometimes." 

"  Won't  you  go  to-day,  and  stay  over  till 
to-morrow  about  this  time  ?  " 

"Why?" 

"  It  may  save  you  annoyance.  I  think  some 
disagreeable  things  are  going  to  happen  here  — 
I'd  rather  not  have  you  at  home.  It's  only 
on  your  own  account." 

"  I  don't  see  what  can  happen  to  me  at 
home." 

"  Nothing  will  happen  to  you,  but  don't 
ask  me  to  tell  you  now.  To-morrow  evening 
I'll  come  up  for  you  and  bring  you  down,  and 
then  I'll  tell  everything.  You  see,  I  must 
have  your  answer  to-morrow.  I  shall  probably 
have  to  go  right  away,  and  I  couldn't  go  think 
ing  I  had  left  this  —  the  one  thing  of  all  that  I 
care  about  —  unsettled.  I  want  you  to  know 
that  everything  in  the  world  I  have  to  offer 
you  is  yours  forever.  I  want  you  to  know 
this,  and  then,  when  you've  thought  it  over 
and  realized  what  it  means  for  both  of  us,  I 
want  you  to  come  to  me  and  give  me  your 


i8o  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

hand  and  tell  me  that  —  that  it's  all  right  — 
that  you  give  me  everything,  too."  A  long 
silence.  "  Let's  sail  up  toward  the  water 
works  now,  Annie.  I  can  drop  you  off  there 
at  the  pier,  and  bring  the  Captain  down  alone." 

She  looked  again  toward  the  Merry  Anne. 

He  read  her  thoughts.  "  We  needn't  pass 
near  her.  We'll  run  in  close  to  the  shore." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I'm  going  to  turn 
back." 

And  back  they  turned.  In  vain  he  urged 
her,  reproached  her,  pleaded  with  her ;  hardly 
a  word  could  he  get  during  all  the  run  back  to 
the  beach.  He  pulled  up  the  boat  for  her, 
and  walked  by  her  side  to  the  steps.  There, 
with  an  odd  pressure  of  the  lips,  she  shook  her 
head  at  him,  as  if  afraid  to  trust  her  voice,  and 
mounted  the  steps. 

"  Annie,  you  haven't  told  me.  Will  you 
go?" 

She  shook  her  head  again,  and  entered  the 
house.  Beveridge,  motionless,  looked  after 
her.  Finally  he  turned,  and  glanced  with  a 
troubled  air  at  the  approaching  schooner,  then 
at  the  sleepy  pier,  where  he  could  see  Wilson 
stretched  out  flat  holding  out  a  bamboo  fish- 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  181 

pole  over  the  water.  Behind  the  house  Cap 
tain  Fargo  was  mending  his  nets.  Beveridge 
heard  him  humming  a  song  as  he  worked, 
and  after  hesitating  a  moment  longer  walked 
around  and  greeted  him. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Captain." 

"How  are  you  ?  "  The  fisherman  straight 
ened  his  spare  old  figure  and  looked  at  the 
young  man.  His  face  was  brown  above  the 
beard,  and  crisscrossed  with  innumerable  fine 
wrinkles.  Beveridge  knew,  in  meeting  those 
faded  blue  eyes  with  their  patient,  subdued 
expression,  that  he  was  facing  a  man  whom  he 
could  trust. 

"  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  Captain, 
that  may  be  a  surprise,  —  I  want  Annie." 

"  You  want  her  ?  " 

"  Yes.  You  may  think  I've  not  known  her 
very  long,  but  it  has  been  long  enough  to  show 
me  that  I  can't  go  on  any  longer  without  her." 

Captain  Fargo  stood  for  a  moment  without 
replying,  then  asked  simply,  "  What  does 
she  say? " 

"  It  isn't  settled  ;  I  have  told  her  how  I 
feel,  and  asked  her  for  an  answer  to-morrow 
night." 


1 82  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

"  Isn't  she  a  little  young  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  so." 

"  And  you  —  you're  a  student  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not." 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  support  her  ? 
I'm  afraid  we  have  taught  her  to  expect  more 
than  our  position  would  seem  to  make  right." 

"  Yes,  I  can  support  her  comfortably.  You 
see,  I  —  " 

"  Hasn't  Annie  told  me  you  were  a 
student  ? " 

"Yes,  I  told  her  that,  myself.  There  was 
a  reason  for  it,  Captain.  The  situation  is 
unusual,  and  my  only  chance  of  keeping  her 
out  of  what  is  to  come  lies  in  talking  it  out 
plainly  with  you."  He  swept  the  beach  with 
a  swift  glance,  stepped  close  to  the  older  man, 
and  spoke  rapidly  and  eagerly  in  a  subdued 
voice. 

The  Captain  removed  his  hat,  and  looked 
out  over  the  water  with  a  distressed  expression. 
"  Are  you  sure  you  are  right  about  this  ?  "  he 
asked,  when  Beveridge  had  finished. 

"  Perfectly." 

"  You  know,  it  is  generally  easy  to  prove  a 
thing  when  your  mind's  set  on  it." 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  183 

"  There  is  no  doubt  whatever.  My  mind  is 
set  on  nothing  but  carrying  out  my  orders. 
Do  you  think  I  would  tell  you  this  if  I  didn't 
have  the  whole  case  right  in  my  hands —  cold  ? 
I  tell  you,  I've  got  it.  It's  the  end  of  one  of 
the  worst  cases  in  fifty  years." 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  I  hate  to  think  it." 
"In  my  business  we  learn  not  to  think  any 
thing.  I  always  thought  Maxwell  would  live 
and  die  in  the  work.  If  there  was  a  clean  man 
and  a  good  friend  to  me  anywhere  on  earth,  it 
was  Tommy  Maxwell.  But  he  had  this  work 
before  me,  and  they  paid  him  I  don't  know 
how  much  to  cover  the  scent  and  skip  to 
Mexico.  After  all  his  experience,  Tommy 
couldn't  walk  by  that  offer,  and  now  he  must 
end  up  in  Mexico  for  it.  If  I  told  you  about 
the  men  and  the  methods  that  I  have  had  to 
fight  in  this  business,  you  would  find  it  hard  to 
believe  me.  In  some  ways  it  has  been  even  a 
dangerous  case."  This  was  Beveridge's  first 
opportunity  to  free  his  mind,  and  his  tongue 
was  threatening  to  run  loose.  He  was  speak 
ing  with  a  certain  pride.  "  You  know  there  is 
one  of  us  shot,  on  the  average,  every  year,  in 
this  work." 


1 84  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Fargo  again.  "  Maybe 
you  are  right  about  her  going.  It  wouldn't  be 
pleasant  for  her.  I'll  speak  to  her  mother 
about  it." 

"  Of  course,  the  sooner  the  better." 

"Yes.     I'll  go  in  now." 

"  One  minute,  Captain.  You  understand, 
don't  you,  my  putting  it  before  you  ?  It's 
just  to  spare  Annie.  There  may  be  rough 
work." 

"Yes,  I  understand." 

"You'll  hardly  find  it  necessary  to  tell  Mrs. 
Fargo  what  I  have  told  you." 

"  No,  I  suppose  not.  Though  it  would  be 
perfectly  safe  with  her." 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I'd  rather  not." 

"  Very  well." 

The  Captain  went  into  the  house ;  and  Bev- 
eridge  walked  away.  The  Merry  Anne  was  at 
the  moment  coming  slowly  in  toward  the 
north  side  of  the  pier. 

When  he  had  nearly  reached  the  pier,  Bev- 
eridge  turned  and  stood  frowning  and  snapping 
his  fingers.  A  glance  told  him  that  Wilson 
had  just  hauled  out  a  fine  perch  and  was  bait 
ing  his  hook  for  another.  He  turned  toward 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  185 

the  house,  and  found  that  the  Captain  was 
approaching  him. 

"  Well,"  said  Beveridge,  "  will  she  go  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  said  anything  yet.  I  thought 
I'd  turn  it  over  in  my  mind.  Aren't  you 
pretty  young  for  this  work,  Mr.  Beveridge?" 

"  Not  so  very.  Do  as  you  like  about  it.  I 
have  said  all  I  can." 

"Oh,  it's  all  right,  of  course;  well,  I'll  step 
in  and  see  how  Annie  feels  about  going." 

A  second  time  they  parted,  and  a  second 
time  Beveridge  walked  away.  He  looked  over 
his  shoulder,  and  saw  Annie  running  down  the 
beach  for  something  she  had  left  in  the  Captain. 
He  hurried  back  and  intercepted  her. 

"  Annie." 

"Yes." 

"  I  don't  know  if  you  understand  —  you  see, 
I  have  gone  a  good  way  in  telling  you  what  I 
have  —  " 

"  Oh,  of  course,  if  you  want  to  take  it 
back  —  " 

"But  I  don't.  Not  a  word  of  it.  I  was 
only  going  to  say  —  "  he  hesitated  again.  She 
waited.  "  It  isn't  what  I  have  asked  you  for 
myself;  that  stands,  Annie,  and  always  will. 


1 86  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

It's  the  other.  Don't  you  see  how  I  have  put 
myself  in  your  hands  ?  I  never  did  such  a 
thing  before  in  my  life.  Just  by  letting  you 
know  that  there's  going  to  be  something  going 
on  here  to-night,  and  by  asking  you  to  be 
away,  I  have  put  a  lot  of  power  in  your  hands. 
You  won't  mind  —  you  won't  be  offended  — 
if  I  ask  you  not  to  breathe  a  word  of  it  to  a 
soul?" 

He  waited,  hoping  for  some  reassuring  word 
or  sign,  but  she  only  looked  at  him  with  wide 
eyes. 

"  You  see  a  chance  word  might  undo  every 
thing.  If — "  he  glanced  out  toward  the  two 
schooners  —  "if  a  hint  of  the  facts  gets  out 
there  to  him  —  don't  you  see?  It  simply 
can't  happen.  You  know  why  I've  told  you. 
It  was  because  I  love  you,  because  I  want  to 
save  you  from  it  all,  —  that's  why  I've  put 
myself  in  your  hands." 

But  all  she  said  was,  "  Don't  say  any  more ; 
I  must  go  in." 

He  was  silent.  But  with  one  foot  on  the 
first  step,  she  turned.  "Wait,  tell  me —  " 

"Yes?" 

"  Tell  me  —  have  you  anything  to  do  with 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  187 

that  revenue  cutter  that  was  in  here  the 
other  day  ? " 

"  Oh,  dear  Annie,  you  mustn't  ask  me  that." 

Then  she  hurried  into  the  house. 

In  the  kitchen  Captain  Fargo  was  trying  to 
tell  his  wife  some  half-truths,  never  an  easy 
thing  for  him  to  do. 

"  But  what  is  it  ?  What's  the  trouble  ?  I 
don't  see  that  anything  could  happen  here  that 
it  would  hurt  her  to  see." 

"  It  wouldn't  hurt  her,  but  it  really  would 
be  better  to  take  her  up  to  Lizzie's.  You  and 
she  could  come  back  together  to-morrow." 

"  Oh,  it's  me  too !  Now  what  is  all  this 
about,  anyway  ? " 

The  Captain,  instead  of  replying,  spoke  to 
himself:  "  I  can't  believe  it.  There  has  been 
a  mistake  made.  They  never  should  have 
sent  a  boy  of  his  age  to  do  such  work." 

"  What  work  ?  Is  there  something  you 
have  promised  not  to  tell  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  there  is.  Don't  ask  me  what  it  is. 
Just  talk  it  over  with  Annie,  and  see  if  she 
won't  go  with  you  up  to  Lizzie's." 

Mrs.  Fargo  threw  a  glance  at  her  husband, 
hesitated,  then  went  up  to  Annie's  room. 


1 88  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Let  me  in,  dear."  Annie  obeyed.  "  I 
want  you  to  put  on  your  things  and  go  out 
with  me." 

"  Not  to  Aunt  Lizzie's  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Your  father  thinks  —  " 

"  Has  he  been  talking  to  father,  then  ?  " 

"Your  father  and  I  have  been  talking  it 
over.  He  hasn't  told  me  just  why  he  asks 
it  —  " 

"  But  I  know." 

"  Oh,  do  you  ?  "  There  was  a  note  of  burn 
ing  curiosity  in  these  three  words. 

"  Yes,  I  do.  And  I  don't  believe  a  word  of 
it." 

"  It's  nothing  very  bad,  I  hope  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  that  I  understand  it  all, 
but  I  know  something  about  it.  Mr.  Bever- 
idge  had  no  right  to  go  to  father." 

"  Oh,  it  was  Mr.  Beveridge  ? " 

"  Yes,  it  was.  Tell  me,  mother,  did  he  — 
do  you  know  what  else  he  said  ? " 

"  No,  I  haven't  asked  him.  But  he  wants 
us  to  go  very  much,  and  I  don't  think  we  had 
better  say  anything." 

"  He  wants  you  to  go,  too  ? " 

"Yes." 


DRAWING  TOGETHER  189 

"Now,  mother,  you  won't  think  I'm  very 
bad  if  I  —  don't  go  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  your  father  —  " 

"  Father  doesn't  understand  it  himself,  I'm 
sure.  It  is  all  a  mistake  —  " 

"  Your  father  thinks  that,  too." 

"  Oh,  does  he  ?  Then  he  won't  mind  if  I 
don't  go ! " 

"  I  don't  know.  I'll  tell  him  what  you  say." 
The  mother  slipped  out,  and  returned  to  the 
kitchen.  "  She  doesn't  want  to  go,  father." 

"  But  I  have  asked  her  to.  I  can't  explain 
to  you,  or  her  —  " 

"  She  seems  to  know  more  than  you  do. 
She  says  it's  a  mistake." 

"  It  is  ;  it  must  be.     But  I  said  —  " 

"  Now,  father,  don't  you  think  we'd  just 
better  not  say  anything  more  ?  Nobody  is 
going  to  hurt  us  in  our  own  home." 

rt  No,  he  said  that  himself." 

"  Well,  now,  suppose  we  just  let  her  have 
her  way.  I  could  see  something  was  troubling 
her,  and  I  think  she'd  best  be  let  alone." 

The  Captain  had  done  what  he  could,  so 
now  he  returned  to  his  nets  and  left  his  wife 
to  begin  getting  supper. 


i9o  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

Beveridge  was  standing  at  the  shore  end 
of  the  pier  waiting  for  Wilson,  fish-pole  on 
shoulder,  to  approach.  "  Well,  what  luck, 
Bert?" 

Wilson  held  up  a  small  string  of  perch. 
"  Fair.  It's  too  late  in  the  day  to  catch 
many." 

"  Going  up  to  the  house  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  guess  so." 

Then  their  voices  dropped. 

"  Where  will  you  be,  Bill  ?  " 

"In  the  park  here,  by  the  road.  You'll  be 
back  early  ? " 

"  Yes,  soon  as  I  can  make  the  arrangements." 

"You  have  spoken  to  them  at  head 
quarters  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  All  right.     So  long." 

"  So  long." 

At  seven  o'clock,  after  supper,  Captain 
Fargo  was  hailed  by  Henry  Smiley. 

"  How  are  you,  Henry  ?  Glad  to  see  you. 
You  haven't  been  around  much  lately." 

"  No,  too  busy." 

"  On  your  way  up-town  ?  '* 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  191 

"  No,  just  been.  I  ran  out  of  tobacco  and 
went  up  to  get  some.  I  generally  live  on  the 
schooner,  you  know.  I  have  no  other  place 
to  go  to.  That's  the  devil  of  it,  Cap'n,  when 
you  get  to  be  my  age  without  a  home  or  a 
near  relation.  There  isn't  a  soul  that  cares 
anything  about  me." 

"  I  guess  you  need  some  supper.  Come  in 
with  us,  'tain't  all  cold  yet." 

"  That  wouldn't  help  any.  I've  had  enough 
to  eat." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  talking  about  your 
age  ?  You're  young  yet." 

"  Do  you  call  forty-five  young  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  think  of  me  ?  I'm  most 
sixty." 

"  That's  another  story.  When  you  go, 
you'll  leave  something  behind  to  show  that 
your  life  was  worth  living.  ' 

"  I  wasn't  much  younger  than  you  when  I 
married." 

"  None  o'  that  for  me,"  said  Henry,  with  a 
sort  of  smile.  "  I  never  was  minded  to  it. 
If  you  have  seen  anything  worth  while  about 
living,  you're  lucky,  I  never  could." 

"  Look  here,  Henry,  I  don't  like  to   hear 


192  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

you  talking  that  way.  What's  the  matter  with 
you  ? " 

Another  questionable  smile.  "  I'll  tell  you 
how  it  looks  to  me.  We  have  to  live  with  a 
pack  of  rascals,  and  heaven  help  the  fools  ! " 

"  Henry,  you're  enough  to  give  a  man  the 
blues." 

"  I've  had  enough  to-day  to  give  'em  to 
me.  To  tell  the  truth,  Cap'n,  I  don't  know 
what  to  make  of  Dick.  I'm  afraid  he  is  one 
of  the  fools." 

"  There  isn't  anything  serious  the  matter,  is 
there  ? "  This  was  said  nervously. 

"  He's  young,  and  independent.  He  has 
no  idea  of  easing  off  his  own  notions  so  as  to 
keep  things  running  smooth  with  other  peo 
ple.  I've  done  everything  a  man  could  to 
help  him  get  on,  but  it's  no  use ;  he  antago 
nizes  the  only  people  who  can  help  him. 
He's  bristling  all  the  time.  A  couple  of 
weeks  ago  he  just  naturally  got  sick  of  his 
mate  and  fired  him.  I  smoothed  things  over 
and  got  the  Cap'n  to  suggest  another.  And 
now  he's  fired  this  one,  and  won't  have  him 
on  his  schooner  at  all,  —  and  I've  had  to 
take  him  in  for  the  night." 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  193 

"  Wasn't  there  any  reason  ?  " 

"  Reason  —  yes.  I  know  he  means  to  tell 
the  whole  story,  but  he  has  no  idea  how 
hasty  he  is  sometimes.  McGlory's  so  ugly 
I  could  hardly  trust  my  own  self  with  him. 
I  thought  the  best  thing  would  be  to  walk 
off  for  a  while,  and  maybe  we'd  both  cool  off." 

"  Dick's  all  right,  though,  isn't  he  ?  No  — 
no  trouble,  or  anything  ? " 

"  Why  ?     Been  hearing  anything  ?  " 

"I  —  I've  thought  he  wasn't  quite  himself 
lately." 

"  Why  did  you  think  that?  " 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  say,  exactly." 

"  Why,  no,  I  don't  think  he's  in  any 
trouble."  Henry  smiled  again.  "  I  suppose 
you  know  as  much  as  I  do  what's  bothering 
him." 

"No.     What  is  it?" 

"  Well  now,  see  here,  if  it's  that  way,  I 
oughtn't  to  say  anything.  But  you  don't 
quite  follow.  Surely,  you  know.  Just  about 
the  little  girl." 

"My  Annie?" 

"  Yes.  Of  course  we  all  know  how  Dick 
feels  there." 


194  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"Well,  I've  thought  of  it,  of  course." 

"  That's  another  thing  that's  been  bothering 
me.  He's  got  no  earthly  business  to  think 
of  such  a  thing.  I  don't  know  what  to  make 
of  him,  anyhow.  I  used  to  think  I  under 
stood  him,  but  Lord !  he  has  new  sides  to 
him  every  day  —  you  might  as  well  try  to 
organize  a  volcano.  It's  kind  of  discourag 
ing.  He's  the  nearest  approach  to  some 
thing  to  care  about  I've  got,  and  if  he 
would  only  let  me,  I'd  like  to  sort  o'  push  him 
along.  But  I  don't  know  —  I  don't  know." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  misled  you  a  little  just  now, 
Henry." 

"How's  that?" 

"What  I  said  about  not  having  heard  —  I 
have  heard  something." 

"  About  Dick  ?  " 

"Yes.  I  can't  tell  you  what.  I  know  it 
isn't  so,  but  it  has  bothered  me." 

"  What  sort  of  thing  —  about  his  char 
acter  ?  " 

"  In  a  way  —  yes." 

Henry  looked  sharply  at  the  Captain  with 
an  expression  of  doubt  and  uncertainty.  Then 
he  half  turned  away. 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  195 

"  You  aren't  going,  Henry  ?  " 

"Yes,  guess  I'd  better,  and  see  what  Mc- 
Glory's  up  to.  I'd  let  him  go  back  to  the 
city,  but  I  want  to  see  Cap'n  Stenzenberger 
before  he  does.  Good  night." 

Henry  walked  out  on  the  pier  to  his 
schooner. 

The  evening  came  slowly  on  and  settled 
over  the  lake.  The  breeze,  instead  of  drop 
ping  with  the  sun,  had  freshened,  and  now 
was  stirring  up  little  waves  that  lapped  the 
two  schooners  and  the  piling  under  the  pier. 
Annie,  sitting  out  on  her  balcony  in  an  in 
conspicuous  dress,  her  arms  on  the  railing, 
was  listening  and  watching  —  and  waiting. 
She  had  heard  Henry  say  good  night  to 
her  father,  and  had  seen  him  walk  out  on 
the  pier  until  he  was  lost  among  the  lumber 
piles.  She  saw  the  afterglow  die  in  the 
north,  the  red-gold  lake  fade  to  amber, 
to  gray-blue,  almost  to  black,  while  the 
twinkle  of  the  lighthouse  on  the  point  grew 
into  a  powerful  beacon  and  sent  an  arrow  of 
light  deep  into  the  water.  She  watched  the 
horizon  line  grow  dimmer  and  dimmer  until 
it  disappeared,  and  sky  and  lake  blended  in 


196  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

i 
darkness.      All  was  quiet  on   the  pier.     The 

lights  of  the  schooners  swayed  lazily  ;  occa 
sionally  a  voice  floated  in  over  the  water, 
a  quiet,  matter-of-fact  voice.  She  looked  up 
the  beach,  down  the  beach ;  all  was  peace 
ful. 

But  there  was  no  quiet  in  Annie's  heart. 
She  was  rigid ;  her  hands  were  clasped ;  her 
eyes  shifted  nervously  from  point  to  point. 
Once  she  got  up  and  went  into  her  room  and 
tried  to  read;  but  in  a  few  moments  she  was 
back.  And  there  she  sat  until  the  late  twilight 
had  darkened  into  night. 

Then  she  rose,  passed  through  the  room, 
leaving  the  light  burning,  stepped  out  into  the 
hall,  and  softly,  very  softly,  closed  the  door. 
She  stood  motionless,  still  holding  the  knob. 
Her  father  and  mother  were  in  the  sitting 
room  quietly  talking.  She  went  slowly  down 
the  stairs,  stepping  cautiously  over  the  one 
squeaky  step,  and  slipped  through  the  hall. 
The  sitting-room  door  was  closed. 

"  Annie  ? " 

"Yes,  mother." 

"  Is  that  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  I'm  out  here." 


DRAWING   TOGETHER  197 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Nothing.  I'm  going  out  for  a  breath  of 
air." 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not  far." 

"  Come  in  soon,  won't  you  ?  " 

"Yes,  of  course.  I'm  not  going  off  any 
where." 

There  was  apparently  no  further  need  for 
quiet,  yet  she  was  half  a  minute  closing  the 
front  door  after  her.  Again  she  looked  up 
and  down  the  beach.  She  could  see  the  street 
now  on  the  low  bluff;  but  no  one  appeared 
within  the  light  of  the  corner  gas  lamp.  Then 
she  hurried  along  the  beach,  climbed  up  on 
the  pier  by  some  rough  steps  that  she  knew, 
and  walked  rapidly  out  toward  the  schooner, 
stepping  on  the  balls  of  her  feet,  and  avoiding 
loose  planks. 


CHAPTER    VIII 
THE   EVENING   OF  THE   SAME    DAY 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY 

ONCE  within  the  shadow  of  the  lumber 
Annie  paused.  Not  a  sound  came  from 
the  two  schooners.  She  knew  that  the  Merry 
Anne  lay  to  leeward,  on  the  north  side,  and  after 
a  moment  of  listening  and  a  glance  behind  she 
turned  toward  it,  making  her  way  by  feeling 
the  lumber  until  she  found  an  opening.  In 
another  moment  she  stood  at  the  edge  of  the 
pier,  looking  down  on  the  schooner.  At  first 
she  thought  Dick  must  be  asleep,  for  there  was 
no  light  in  the  cabin ;  then  she  saw  him  sitting 
on  the  cabin  trunk,  his  hands  clasped  about  his 
knees,  his  pipe  between  his  teeth,  his  eyes  fixed 
on  the  dark  water.  The  night  was  still,  the 
lapping  of  the  ripples  was  the  only  sound. 

"  Dick,"  she  whispered. 

He  turned  with  a  start  and  removed  his 
pipe.  Though  he  looked  directly  toward  her, 

201 


202  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

he  evidently  could  not  see  her,  for  her  black 
dress  blended  with  the  shadows. 

"  Dick,"  she  said  again. 

This  time  he  ducked  under  the  boom  and 
came  across  to  the  rail.  "  Who's  there  ?  " 

"  It's  me,  Dick.     I'm  coming  down." 

"  No,  wait."  He  stepped  up  beside  her, 
and  added,  in  a  low,  uncertain  voice,  "  You 
might  wake  Pink;  he's  sleeping  below." 
And  before  she  knew  it,  his  pipe  lay  on  a 
plank  and  he  had  taken  both  her  hands. 
"  You  came  out  to  see  me,  Annie  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  wait,  Dick ;  I  don't  know 
how  to  tell  you- — I  couldn't  help  coming  —  " 

He  waited  for  her  to  go  on,  but  she  could 
not.  She  could  not  even  withdraw  her  hands, 
but  stood  motionless,  her  wits  fluttering. 

'  O 

Finally  he  spoke :  — 

"  You  said  you  came  to  tell  me  —  " 

"  Not  that,  Dick  —  not  what  you  think. 
It's  something  else." 

He  released  her  hands.  He  even,  in  his 
bewilderment,  took  up  his  pipe  again. 

"  I've  found  something  out,  Dick.  I  couldn't 
let  it  go  by  without  telling  you.  It's  about  — 
Mr.  Beveridge." 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    203 

"  Oh,"  said  Dick. 

"  Did  you  think  he  was  a  student  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  thought  so." 

"Well,  he  isn't  at  all." 

"  Oh,"  said  Dick  again.  And  then,  "  Isn't 
he?" 

"  No,  he  has  something  to  do  with  —  don't 
you  understand  what  I'm  getting  at,  Dick  ? " 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  Are  you  going  to  make  me  tell  you  ?  " 

"You  needn't  tell  me  anything  you  don't 
want  to,  Annie." 

"  O  dear,  I  don't  understand  it  myself, 
much  of  it ;  but  I  thought  you  would  if  what 
he  says  is  true." 

"  It's  something  about  me,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Dick,  —  and  the  revenue  cutter." 

"The  revenue  cutter?" 

"  Yes,  the  Foote.  He  has  something  to 
do  with  her." 

"  He's  a  revenue  officer,  then  ?  " 

"  Yes,  or  something.  I  don't  know  just  what 
he  is.  But  you  understand  it  now,  don't  you?  " 

"  Not  a  bit." 

"  But  you  must,  Dick.  He  says  something 
is  going  to  happen,  right  here." 


204  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  On  the  pier  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  When  ? " 

"  Now  —  to-night.  I  was  afraid  it  would  be 
before  I  could  get  out  here.  And  I  had  to 
wait  till  dark,  you  know." 

"  But  how  do  you  know  all  this,  Annie  ? " 

"  Mr.  Beveridge  —  Mr.  Beveridge  told  me 
more  than  he  meant  to,  I  guess.  And  then  he 
talked  with  father.  And  father  and  mother 
both  tried  to  make  me  go  up  to  Aunt  Lizzie's 
early  this  evening,  so  I  wouldn't  be  here.  It 
was  to  save  me  from  something,  they  said." 

"  But  I  don't  see,  Annie  —  " 

"  Why  don't  you  go,  Dick.  I've  come  out 
here  to  tell  you,  so  you  can  sail  away  before  he 
comes.  Then  you  won't  have  any  trouble. 
There's  a  mistake,  I  know ;  and  when  they 
have  found  it  out,  you  can  come  back." 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't  do  that,  Annie.  I  have  no 
reason  to  go  away.  If  anybody  wants  to  see 
me,  he  knows  where  he  can  find  me." 

This  silenced  Annie.  She  looked  at  Dick, 
and  then  looked  away  from  him,  out  over  the 
Lake,  not  knowing  what  to  say  or  think. 

"  You  came  out  just  to  warn  me,  Annie  ?  " 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    205 

She  nodded. 

"  There  must  be  something  more  then  — 
something  you  haven't  told  me." 

"No  —  only  he  —  Mr.  Beveridge  said  a 
good  deal  —  he  tried  to  make  me  believe  you 
were  —  dishonest,  or  something." 

"  And  you  didn't  believe  it  ? " 

She  made  no  reply  to  this.  She  was  be 
ginning  to  think  about  getting  back  to  the 
house.  When  Dick  spoke  again,  it  was  in  a 
gentler  voice. 

"  I'm  glad  you  came  out,  Annie,  mighty 
glad.  And  I  know  you'll  be  glad  to  find 
out  that  he  is  wrong." 

"Oh,  I  know  that  —  " 

"  But  there  must  have  been  some  things  I 
don't  understand  at  all.  I  don't  know  but 
what  it's  a  good  thing  he  is  here.  If  he  can 
clear  it  up,  it  will  be  better  for  all  of  us.  So 
I'll  stay  right  here,  and  if  he  wants  me,  he 
can  have  me.  That's  no  reason  why  I 
should  dodge  any  man  living." 

"I   knew  it— I'm  glad  —  " 

Then  Dick's  reserve  broke  down.  He 
caught  her  hands  again.  "  But  you  can't 
tell  me  your  coming  out  here  doesn't  mean 


206  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

anything,  Annie.  You've  told  me  already 
what  I  didn't  dare  to  ask  you." 

"  No,  Dick,  let  me  go.     I'm  going  back." 

"  But  after  this  —  you  can't  put  me  off 
now,  Annie.  Don't  you  see?  It's  no  use 
trying  to  make  me  think  you  would  have 
done  this  for  anybody,  because  you  wouldn't. 
I  know  it,  and  you  know  it." 

"Now,  Dick,  please!     I'm  afraid  —  " 

"  If  you  only  knew  how  I've  felt  this  trip, 
—  what  a  regular  hell  it  has  been,  —  you 
wouldn't  keep  me  waiting  any  longer.  I 
know  to-morrow's  the  time  ;  and  I  wouldn't 
have  said  a  word  to-night  if  you  hadn't  come 
out  here.  But  you  are  here,  and  you  have 
let  me  know  so  much  that  it's  only  a  matter 
of  saying  a  word.  You  can't  blame  me  if  I 
take  your  coming  that  way." 

Annie  was  struggling,  and  Dick  in  his 
eagerness  was  holding  her  tightly.  But  she 
got  her  hands  free  now  and  turned  away. 

"  Let  me  go  back  with  you,  Annie.  I  — 
I'll  try  not  to  bother  you.  I  didn't  mean  to 
just  now.  Hang  it,  I  never  can  trust  myself 
when  —  " 

"  No,  you  mustn't  come." 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    207 

"  Not  even  good  night,  Annie  ? " 

But  sne  hurried  off  without  a  word  into 
the  shadows,  and  felt  her  way  nervously  until 
she  reached  the  central  roadway,  where  it  was 
lighter.  It  was  now  getting  on  toward  nine 
o'clock,  and  nothing  had  happened.  Per 
haps  nothing  was  going  to  happen,  after  all. 
What  with  her  hope  that  it  all  might  be  a 
mistake,  and  her  fear  that  she  had  come  on  a 
fool's  errand,  Annie  was  in  a  pretty  state  of 
mind.  She  did  not  know  what  to  make  of 
Beveridge ;  she  did  not  know  what  to  make 
of  herself;  the  natural  thing,  apparently,  was 
to  get  angry  with  Dick,  and  this  she  was 
rapidly  doing. 

When  she  was  passing  the  last  but  one 
of  the  lumber  piles,  hurrying  along  with  less 
caution  than  she  had  used  in  coming  out,  a 
man  appeared  out  of  the  shadow  and  blocked 
the  way.  She  stepped  aside  and  tried  to  run 
by,  but  he,  as  quick  as  she,  stepped  aside 
too  and  caught  her  wrist.  Then  she  saw 
that  it  was  Beveridge. 

"  Let  me  go  !  "  she  said  breathlessly. 

"  No,  Annie,  wait.  You  decided  to  warn 
him,  did  you  ?  " 


208  THE   MERRY  4NNE 

"  Let  me  go.  You  have  no  right  to  hold 
me." 

"  Yes  I  have,  more  right  than  you  know. 
Now  tell  me,  why  did  you  do  it  ? " 

"Mr.  Beveridge  —  " 

"  You  must  wait,  Annie.  No  one  is  going 
to  hurt  you.  If  you  had  known  what  you 
were  doing,  you  never  would  have  come.  It's 
no  place  for  a  woman.  But  now  that  you 
have  done  this,  now  that  you  are  here,  I 
think  you  had  better  stay  and  see  with  your 
own  eyes  what  you  have  done.  Then  per 
haps  you  will  believe  me." 

Poor  Annie  could  say  nothing  more.  Her 
head  whirled.  She  let  him  lead  her  back 
along  the  roadway. 

Close  to  the  spot  where  she  had  turned  off 
to  reach  the  schooner  Beveridge  stopped.  In 
a  moment  he  was  joined  by  another  man. 

"  Bert  ? " 

"  Yes.  What  is  it  ?  Want  me  to  take  her 
home?'/ 

"  No.  Wait  here,  in  case  I  call.  And  have 
an  eye  on  the  other  boat." 

cc  You  aren't  going  to  take  her  back  there  ?  " 

"  Never  you  mind  what  I'm  going  to  do." 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    209 

"  But  look  here,  Bill !  This  is  no  place 
for  —  " 

"  Do  what  you're  told  and  keep  still." 

Annie  heard  this  muttered  conversation  with 
out  taking  it  in.  Beveridge  still  held  her 
wrist,  held  it  tighter  than  he  knew,  but  she 
was  hardly  conscious  of  this  either.  She  was 
caught  up  and  whirled  along  on  the  high 
wind  of  events.  She  was  conscious  only 
of  Beveridge,  of  a  new  side  to  his  char 
acter.  The  young  man  she  had  known  on 
the  beach  and  aboard  the  Captain  had  van 
ished.  This  Beveridge  was  hard,  irresistible ; 
his  manner,  the  atmosphere  about  him,  spoke 
of  some  object  that  must  be  reached  without 
regard  to  obstacles.  Her  Beveridge  had  been 
friendly,  considerate ;  there  was  nothing  con 
siderate  about  this  man.  And  yet,  a  part  of 
his  object  was  to  convince  her  that  he  was  right 
and  that  Dick  was  wrong ;  and  she  knew  why. 

Dick  had  gone  back  to  his  seat  on  the  cabin 
trunk.  Beveridge,  gripping  Annie's  wrist, 
stood  at  the  pier  edge,  and  looked  down. 

"  Smiley,"  he  said. 

Dick  crossed  the  deck.  "  I'm  Smiley. 
What  is  it  ?  " 


210  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  I  shall  have  to  ask  you  to  come  away  with 
me." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  Beveridge,  special  agent  of  the  United 
States  Treasury  Department." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  me  for  ?  "  Dick 
was  peering  forward,  trying  to  make  out  the 
figure  in  the  background. 

"  I  guess  it  isn't  necessary  to  tell  you  that ; 
I'll  give  you  a  minute  to  get  what  things  you 
need." 

"  Who  have  you  got  there  ? " 

"  It's  me,  Dick." 

"  Annie  ! "  Dick  leaped  up  to  the  pier. 
"  Have  you  dragged  her  out  here  to  see  —  " 

"  Get  back  there  on  your  schooner,  Smiley. 
It  won't  be  necessary  to  do  any  talking.  Any 
thing  you  say  is  likely  to  be  used  against  you. 
Get  back  there." 

Dick  looked  at  him  a  moment,  then  jumped 
down.  Beveridge  followed,  helping  Annie, 
none  too  gently. 

"  Where's  your  man  Harper  ?  " 

"Pink,"  called  Dick.  "Pink,  come  up 
here." 

In  a  moment  the  sleepy  mate  appeared. 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    211 

"Harper,"  said  Beveridge,  "get  an  axe. 
Be  quick  about  it." 

Pink  looked  at  Dick,  who  said,  "  Go  ahead. 
Do  whatever  he  tells  you." 

The  axe  was  brought  and  handed  to 
Beveridge. 

"  Now,  Smiley,  you  and  your  man  go 
below,  please." 

"Below?" 

"To  the  hold.     I'll  follow." 

"  Pink,"  said  Dick,  "  get  a  lantern." 

They  had  to  wait  a  minute,  while  Pink  was 
lighting  the  lantern.  There  they  stood,  with 
out  speaking,  each  watching  the  other.  Finally 
Pink  led  the  way  to  the  open  hatch,  and  de 
scended  the  ladder.  Dick  followed.  Bever 
idge  led  Annie  to  the  opening.  "  Wait,"  he 
said ;  "  I'll  go  first,  and  help  you  down." 

Dick,  standing  below  on  the  timbers,  looked 
up  like  a  flash.  "  I  wouldn't  try  to  bring  her 
down  here  if  I  were  you." 

"  I'm  not  talking  to  you,  Smiley." 

"  No,  but  you  will  be  if  you  bully  her  much 
longer.  Just  try  to  make  her  go  down  that 
ladder.  Try  it !  " 

Beveridge,  without  heeding,  turned  to  Annie. 


212  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

When  he  turned  back,  Dick,  with  itching 
fingers,  stood  on  the  deck  beside  him. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?  Didn't  I  tell 
you  to  go  below  ?  " 

"Annie,"  said  Dick,  "just  say  the  word  — 
just  look  at  me  —  if  you  want  —  look  here, 
Mister  Beveridge,  I  don't  know  much  about 
law,  but  it  seems  to  me  you  haven't  shown  me 
any  papers,  and,  until  you  do,  you  can  have 
your  choice  of  letting  go  of  her  hand  or  losing 
your  front  teeth.  Just  whichever  you  like." 

But  Beveridge  did  neither.  "  No,  Smiley," 
said  he,  "  we  won't  get  into  that  sort  o'  talk." 
After  which  remark,  he  stooped  over  and 
looked  down  at  Pink  and  his  lantern,  and  at 
the  timbers  on  which  Pink  was  standing.  "  I 
guess  maybe  you  can  see  without  going  down, 
Annie.  Sit  down  here,  and  watch  what  I  do. 
Go  ahead,  Smiley." 

Dick  again  descended  the  ladder,  and  the 
special  agent  followed,  axe  in  hand.  Annie, 
with  horrified  eyes,  sat  limp  against  the  hatch 
and  took  in  every  motion  in  that  dimly 
lighted  group  below.  She  saw  Dick  and 
Harper  stand  aside ;  she  saw  Beveridge  raise 
the  axe  a  little  way  and  bring  it  down  sharply 


Gazing  into  the  square  black  hole." 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    213 

on  the  end  of  a  stick  of  timber,  —  an  end  that 
was  marked  with  a  circular  groove ;  she  saw 
the  timber  split  open,  and  a  plug  fall  out ;  she 
saw  Beveridge  stoop  and  dip  his  fingers  in  a 
brown  liquid  that  was  flowing  from  some  sort  of  a 
broken  receptacle ;  she  smelled  whiskey.  She 
was  confused,  she  had  only  a  half  understand 
ing  of  what  it  meant,  but  she  shivered  as  if  a 
cold  wind  were  blowing  upon  her ;  and  when 
they  had  all  three  mounted  to  the  deck  and 
were  standing  about  her,  she  was  still  sitting 
there,  holding  to  something,  she  knew  not 
what,  and  gazing  with  fascinated  eyes  into  the 
square  black  hole,  —  blacker  than  at  first,  now 
that  Harper  was  holding  the  lantern  before  her 
on  the  deck.  But  she  knew  when  Beveridge 
stepped  forward  to  help  her  up,  only  to  be 
brushed  aside  by  Dick,  who  raised  her  gently, 
with  a  low  exclamation  of  pity,  and  helped  her 
across  the  deck. 

The  three  men  gathered  about  her  at  the 
rail. 

"  Before  we  go  any  farther,"  said  the  agent, 
in  a  conversational  tone,  "  will  you  men  walk 
into  Cap'n  Fargo's  house  with  me  and  sit 
down  while  we  talk  this  over  a  little  ?  If  you 


214  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

say  you  will,  I'm  willing  to  take  your  word. 
But  if  not,  I  have  men  on  the  pier  and  on  the 
bank  that  might  help  you  to  make  up  your 
minds." 

"  That's  not  necessary.  We'll  go  with  you. 
Just  a  step  up,  Annie.  Put  your  hand  on  my 
shoulder." 

"  All  right,  Mister  Smiley.  Come,  Harper." 
In  passing  his  assistant,  Beveridge  paused  to 
whisper:  "I'll  be  at  the  house.  See  that 
McGlory  doesn't  try  to  get  ashore.  If  he 
gives  you  any  trouble,  whistle." 

A  few  moments  more,  and  they  were  seated 
around  Mrs.  Fargo's  dining  table,  Beveridge, 
Dick,  Pink  Harper,  and  the  old  fisherman. 
Annie  was  shut  in  her  room,  refusing  admit 
tance  even  to  her  mother. 

"  There's  one  question  that  comes  up  right 
here,  Mr.  Smiley,"  began  Beveridge,  "  before 
we  go  any  farther.  Is  this  man  Harper  one  of 
your  accomplices  ? " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  '* 

"  Don't  take  my  time  by  evasions.  You 
have  given  me  trouble  enough  now.  If  you 
will  tell  me  he  has  had  little  or  nothing  to  do 
with  this  business,  and  if  he  can  give  a  good 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    215 

account  of  himself,  I'll  let  him  go.  What  do 
you  say  ? " 

"  Will  you  tell  me  what  you  mean  ?  " 

"  That's  enough.  I  won't  waste  any  more 
time  on  it.  We'll  hold  him.  Cap'n,"  turn 
ing  to  Fargo,  "  there's  one  thing  —  I  guess 
you  can  understand  my  position  —  I  shall 
have  to  call  on  Annie  for  a  witness,  a  little 
later." 

Here  Dick  broke  out.  "  So  that's  why  you 
dragged  her  into  this,  is  it  ? " 

"  Be  careful  what  you  say,  Mr.  Smiley." 

Dick  looked  hard  at  him,  then  glanced 
around  the  group,  then  settled  back  in  his 
chair.  After  a  short  silence,  Captain  Fargo 
spoke. 

"  This  isn't  all  settled,  is  it,  Mr.  Beveridge  ? 
Dick  hasn't  told  you  that  what  you  thought 
was  so  ? " 

"  It  was  hardly  necessary.  I  found  the 
proofs  right  there  on  his  schooner." 

"  Is  that  right,  Dick  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  be." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  right  out  that 
you're  a  smuggler,  Dick  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not." 


216  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

Captain  Fargo  was  puzzled.  He  looked 
from  one  to  the  other  of  the  two  men,  until 
Beveridge,  with  an  air  of  settling  the  matter, 
rose.  "You'd  better  not  throw  away  any 
sympathy  there,  Cap'n.  You  can  be  thankful 
to  find  out  in  time  that  he's  a  bad  one.  I'm 
only  sorry  to  have  to  draw  your  family  into  it. 
I  tried  hard  enough  not  to." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that." 

There  was  a  shout  outside,  a  noise  on  the 
steps,  and  a  hammering  on  the  door.  Then 
before  the  fisherman  could  get  out  of  his  chair, 
the  outer  door  burst  open,  and  down  the  hall 
and  into  the  dining  room  came  Wilson,  breath 
less,  his  hat  still  on  his  head. 

"Well,  Bert  —  " 

"  He's  skipped !  " 

"  McGlory  ?  What  were  you  thinking  of? 
Where'd  he  go  ?  "  Beveridge  was  on  his  feet. 

"  No  use,  Bill ;  sit  down.  It'll  take  a 
steamer  to  catch  him." 

"  You  didn't  stand  there  and  let  him  sail  off"." 

"  Wait'll  I  tell  you.  I  was  back  a  little  way, 
where  the  pier  narrows,  so's  he  couldn't  slip  by 
through  the  lumber.  The  schooner  he  was  on, 
the  — the  — " 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    217 

"  Schmidt"  put  in  Pink. 

"  The  Schmidt  was  on  the  south  side,  the  — 
the  —  " 

"  Merry  Anne"  said  Pink. 

"  —  was  on  the  north.  There's  a  south 
wind,  you  see.  And  the  first  thing  I  knew  I 
heard  the  tackle  creaking  off  to  the  left. 
Thinks  I,  that's  from  the  Merry  Anne,  only 
there  ain't  a  soul  aboard  her.  I  ran  out  and 
looked,  and  sure  enough,  there  she  was,  with 
two  or  three  men  hauling  away  on  the  sails." 

"  And  you  didn't  stop  'em  ?  " 

"  How  could  I,  Bill  ?  You  see,  they'd  cut 
the  ropes  and  let  her  drift  off  down  the  wind. 
She  was  a  hundred  feet  out  before  they  made  a 
move." 

"  But  what  were  they  doing  on  the  Merry 
Anne?" 

"  Don't  you  see  ?  "  said  Pink  ;  "  she  can  beat 
the  old  Schmidt  hands  down." 

"  They'd  sneaked  across  out  by  the  end," 
added  Wilson,  "  while  I  was  nearer  shore." 

Beveridge  sat  down  again,  and  tapped  the 
table  nervously  as  his  eyes  shifted  from  one  to 
another  of  the  faces  before  him.  "  How're 
they  sailing,  Bert  ?  " 


218  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Right  off  north." 

"  Before  the  wind  ?  " 

"Yes,  sure,"  said  Pink;  "how  could  they 
help  it  with  a  south  wind  ? " 

"  Smiley,"  —  Beveridge  had  turned  on  Dick, 
and  was  speaking  in  a  keen,  hard  voice, — 
"  where  are  they  going  ? " 

"  I  couldn't  tell  you." 

"  Think  a  little.  Your  memory's  poor, 
maybe." 

But  Dick  was  stubborn.  Pink,  however, 
was  struck  by  a  flash  of  intelligence.  "  I'll  bet 
I  know." 

"  Where,  Harper  ? " 

"  Why,  to  Spencer's,  where  we  just  come 
from." 

"Where's  that?" 

"  Around  in  Lake  Huron.  If  I  had  a  chart 
here —  Cap'n,  ain't  you  got  a  chart  o'  Lake 
Huron  ? " 

Except  for  Pink's  eager  voice,  the  room  was 
still.  The  four  other  men  sat  like  statues,  leaning 
forward.  As  he  waited  for  the  reply,  the  boy 
became  suddenly  conscious  of  the  odd  expres 
sion  of  their  faces.  He  had  meant  to  help 
both  Dick  and  himself — was  he  helping? 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    219 

The  thought  that  had  already  found  a  place  in 
Dick's  mind,  the  thought  that  they  were  in  the 
hands  of  a  merciless  agent,  whose  whole  object 
was  to  prove  them  guilty,  whose  own  advan 
tage,  whose  future  perhaps,  lay  in  proving 
them  guilty  —  and  that  the  course  to  be  fol 
lowed  was  not  a  matter  for  offhand  decision, 
came  now  to  him,  and  he  faltered. 

Captain  Fargo  shook  his  head.  "  No,"  said 
he,  huskily,  <f  not  even  of  Lake  Michigan." 

"  Go  on,  Harper.  Perhaps  you  can  tell  us. 
Your  memory's  better  than  Smiley's." 

When  Beveridge  spoke  that  last  sentence,  he 
made  a  mistake.  Pink  glanced  at  Dick,  and 
dropped  his  eyes.  When  he  raised  them,  his 
lips  were  closed  tight,  as  if  he  were  afraid  to 
open  them  at  all. 

"  Well,  go  on." 

Pink  shook  his  head. 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Harper.  If  you  can  help 
me  get  McGlory,  it  may  make  it  easier  for 
you." 

"  But  him  —  "Pink  motioned  toward  Dick 
—  "  would  it  make  it  easier  for  him  ?  " 

Beveridge  shook  his  head.  "  I  don't  be 
lieve  the  Lord  a'mighty  could  save  him." 


220  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Then,"  said  Pink,  with  a  flash  of  anger, 
"  you  can  go  to  hell  for  all  o'  me !  " 

Beveridge  sat  thinking.  He  looked  at  Dick 
from  under  his  eyebrows,  studying  the  man 
with  shrewd  eyes.  With  the  same  scrutiny, 
he  looked  at  Pink.  Then  he  drew  an  envelope 
from  his  pocket  and  consulted  a  list  that  had 
been  jotted  on  the  back  ;  and  followed  this  with 
a  Milwaukee  time-table,  which  he  studied  with 
eye  and  finger.  "It's  now  — "  he  looked  at 
his  watch  — "  nine-twelve.  We'll  make  the 
nine-forty.  Come  along  with  me,  Smiley." 

Captain  Fargo  asked  the  question  that  Dick 
would  not  ask.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do 
with  the  boys,  Mr.  Beveridge?  " 

"  We're  going  to  Milwaukee  now,  on  the 
nine-forty." 

"To  Milwaukee!" 

"Yes.     I'm  afraid  that's  all  I  can  tell  you." 

Dick  and  Pink  took  their  hats  and  rose. 
Wilson  stepped  back  to  fall  in  at  Pink's 
shoulder,  leaving  Smiley  to  his  superior.  Sud 
denly  Captain  Fargo,  after  a  moment  of  puz 
zled  silence,  broke  out  with,  "  Wait  —  has 
anybody  seen  or  heard  of  Henry  ? " 

All  looked  blank. 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    221 

"  Where  was  he  seen  last  ?  "  asked  the  Spe 
cial  Agent. 

"  He  was  here  on  the  beach  after  supper. 
We  had  a  little  chat  together.  He'd  been  up 
town  after  some  tobacco,  and  said  he  was  going 
right  out  to  the  Schmidt,  and  would  be  spend 
ing  the  night  there." 

"  He  hasn't  been  around  since  ?  " 

«  No  —  not  here." 

"You  haven't  seen  him?"  This  was  ad 
dressed  to  Pink.  Beveiidge  wheeled  suddenly 
on  him  in  asking  it,  and  raised  his  voice  with 
the  idea  of  bullying  him  into  a  reply.  But 
Pink  shook  his  head. 

"They  wouldn't  likely  have  lugged  him 
across  the  pier  with  them.  He  may  be  on  the 
Schmidt  yet.  How  about  it,  Bert  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  so.  I  looked  around  the 
cabin.  Shall  I  look  again  ?  " 

"Yes.  We'll  wait  here.  You'll  have  to 
hurry  with  it.  We  can't  stay  here  more  than 
ten  minutes  longer." 

Wilson  was  out  of  the  room  at  a  bound, 
down  the  steps  and  across  the  beach  and  run 
ning  out  on  the  long  pier.  In  five  minutes  he 
was  back. 


222  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"Well  —  " 

"  Not  a  soul  there." 

"  How  many  men  did  he  have  aboard  ?  Do 
you  know,  Cap'n  ?  " 

"Only  one  or  two,  I  guess,  besides  Mc- 
Glory." 

"  They've  gone  along,  of  course.  The  only 
question  is,  did  they  take  him  with  'em  ? " 

"  How  could  they  ?  "  said  Wilson.  "  He  is 
a  strong  man,  and  there  wasn't  any  sound  of  a 
scuffle.  No,  if  there  had  been  anything  like 
that,  I  should  have  heard  it." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I  think,"  said  Fargo. 
"  It  isn't  what  I  think,  either ;  but  it  keeps 
coming  up  in  my  mind.  He  didn't  seem 
quite  himself  when  he  was  talking  to  me." 

"  How  —  nervous  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  but  kind  of  depressed.  He  never 
says  a  lot,  but  then  he  isn't  generally  blue  like 
he  certainly  was  to-night.  He  talked  about 
McGlory,  too." 

"  What  did  he  say  about  him  ? "  asked 
Beveridge  sharply. 

"  He  said  that  McGlory  and  Dick  had  dis 
agreed,  and  Dick  had  ordered  him  off  his 
schooner,  and  he  had  taken  him  in  for  the 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    223 

night.  McGlory,  he  said,  was  so  ugly  there 
was  no  getting  on  with  him.  He  had  sort  of 
made  an  errand  up-town  so  he  could  get  away 
and  cool  down  a  little.  I  guess  he  felt  so  glum 
himself  he  was  afraid  to  trust  himself  with  a 
man  that  acted  like  McGlory  was  acting." 

Beveridge  was  standing  by  the  door,  ready 
to  start,  watching  the  Captain  closely  during 
this  speech.  Now  a  look  of  intelligence  came 
to  his  face.  "How  are  Henry  Smiley's  affairs 
—  money  and  that  sort  of  thing? "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  all  right,  I  think.  He  has  always 
been  saving.  He  must  have  a  neat  little  pile 
tucked  away  by  this  time." 

"And  he  wasn't  married,  or  —  "  Beveridge 
paused. 

"  Not  Henry.  No,  he  was  a  woman-hater, 
pretty  nearly." 

"  Was  he  pessimistic  —  kind  of  down  on 
things?  Did  he  have  any  particular  object 
in  living  —  anything  to  work  for  specially  ?  " 

"  He  was  pessimistic,  all  right.  Didn't  be 
lieve  in  much  of  anything.  I  —  I  know  what 
you're  thinking,  Mr.  Beveridge,  but  I  —  I 
can't  hardly  think  it's  possible.  I  don't  know, 
though,  I  guess  his  schooner  was  about  the 


224  THE    MERRT  JNNE 

only  thing  he  cared  for,  except  maybe  Dick 
here." 

"  Oh,  fond  of  his  cousin,  was  he  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  could  say  he  was  that." 

"  Had  you  dropped  him  any  hint  of  what  I 
told  you  ? " 

"  Well,  now  you  speak  of  it,  I  don't  know 
but  what  maybe  I  did  let  him  see  that  I  was  a 
little  worried  about  Dick." 

Beveridge  nodded.  "  I  can't  wait  any  longer. 
Come,  Bert.  You,  I  suppose,"  turning  to  Dick 
and  Pink,  "will  come  along  without  any 
trouble  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Dick. 

"  Good-by,  Captain  —  and  say,  by  the  way, 
Captain,  if  I  were  you,  I  would  send  right  up 
to  the  life-saving  station  and  have  them  set  a 
few  men  to  dragging  out  there." 

"  Do  you  really  believe  that  —  " 

Beveridge  nodded.  "  If  he  is  found  any 
where,  it  will  be  within  fifty  feet  of  the  pier. 
Good-by.  Come,  Bert." 

They  hurried  over  to  the  railway  station, 
Beveridge  walking  with  Dick,  Wilson  with 
Harper.  In  the  minute  or  two  that  they 
had  to  wait,  Beveridge  scrawled  the  following 


THE  EVENING  OF  THE  SAME  DAY    225 

message,    and   had    it   put   promptly   on    the 
wire :  — 

"To  CAPTAIN  B.  SULLIVAN,  on  board 
U.S.  Revenue  Cutter  Foote,  Mil 
waukee. 

"Am  coming  Milwaukee  with  two 
of  our  men.  Third  has  stolen 
schooner  and  headed  Lake  Huron. 
Will  be  aboard  for  chase  about  mid 
night.  Kindly  have  all  ready. 

"  WM.  BEVERIDGE. 

"  To  Operator :  —  If  not  there,  try 
Sheboygan,  Manitowoc,  Sturgeon 
Bay,  and  Marinette,  —  in  order 
named.  BEVERIDGE. 

"  RUSH ! " 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE   CHASE    BEGINS  — THURSDAY 
MORNING 


CHAPTER    IX 

THE   CHASE   BEGINS  —  THURSDAY  MORNING 

THE  four  men  were  in  the  smoking-car, 
spinning  along  toward  Milwaukee. 
Beveridge  handed  Dick  a  cigar.  Then,  after  a 
little :  — 

"  Say,  Smiley,  I'm  doing  a  rather  odd  thing 
with  you." 

"  Are  you  ?  " 

"Yes  —  in  taking  you  off  here  instead  of 
having  you  locked  right  up  in  Chicago." 

Dick  waited. 

"  You  see,  I  have  thought  this  business  over 
pretty  carefully ;  I  have  thought  you  over 
pretty  carefully  —  and  I  like  you.  Now  I 
have  been  some  time  on  this  case,  and  I  under 
stand  it,  I  think.  I  understand  you,  and 
McGlory,  and  Stenzenberger,  and  the  lot  of 
you.  But  there  is  one  place  where  I'm  still 
weak,  —  that  is  Spencer  and  his  places  up  there 
229 


230  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

in  Lake  Huron.  That  is  the  only  thing  we 
haven't  run  down.  I  could  get  it  of  course 
in  time,  but  it  would  take  time,  and  that's  just 
what  1  don't  want  to  take  now.  I'm  depend 
ing  on  you  to  set  me  right.  Of  course  it's 
your  privilege,  if  you  want,  to  shut  your  mouth 
up  tight.  But  I  don't  take  you  for  that  sort 
of  a  chap.  I  have  a  way  of  my  own  of  going 
at  these  things.  There  are  some  of  our  men 
would  bully  you,  but  that  isn't  my  way  —  not 
with  you.  I'll  tell  you  right  here,  that  any 
help  you  can  give  me  will  be  a  mighty  good 
thing  for  you  in  the  long  run." 

"  What  do  you  expect  me  to  tell  you  ? " 

"You  will  know  at  the  proper  time.  All  I 
want  to  find  out  now  is  whether  you  are  going 
to  stand  by  me  and  help  me  through  with  it  or 
not." 

"  Why,  I  will  do  what  I  can." 

"  What  does  that  mean  exactly  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  all  I  know." 

"  All  right,  sir.  Now  we  understand  each 
other.  And  I'll  do  what  I  can  to  make  it  easy 
for  you." 

"There's  one  thing — " 

"  What  is  it  ? " 


THE    CHASE    BEGINS  231 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  us  in 
Milwaukee  ?  " 

"If  we  have  to  stop  over  night,  why,  we'll 
go  to  a  hotel." 

"  Not  the  jail,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,"  —  Beveridge  gave  his  prisoner  a  keen 
glance,  then  shook  his  head,  —  "  no,  that  won't 
be  necessary." 

The  Foote  was  not  at  Milwaukee  ;  apparently 
she  was  not  at  Sheboygan,  Manitowoc,  Stur 
geon  Bay,  or  Marinette.  Throughout  the 
night,  while  Dick  and  Harper  were  shut  up 
with  Wilson  on  the  top  floor  of  the  hotel, 
Beveridge  haunted  the  telegraph  office  down 
stairs.  Simultaneous  messages  went  out  to 
Cedar  River,  Green  Bay,  Two  Rivers,  Kewau- 
nee, —  to  every  little  town  along  the  west  shore, 
even  back  to  Kenosha,  Racine,  andWaukegan. 
Then  Beveridge  thought  of  the  east  shore,  and 
tried  all  the  ports  from  Harbor  Springs  down  to 
St.  Joseph,  but  with  no  success.  He  dropped 
on  the  lounge  in  the  hotel  office  for  a  cat  nap 
now  and  then.  And  finally,  at  half-past  five  in 
the  morning,  he  was  called  to  the  telephone 
and  informed  that  the  Foote  had  just  been 
sighted  heading  in  toward  the  breakwater. 


232  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

Promptly  he  aroused  his  prisoners,  who 
obligingly  tumbled  into  their  clothes ;  and  the 
party  drove  down  to  the  river  and  boarded  a 
tug.  A  little  time  was  to  be  saved  by  meeting 
the  revenue  cutter  before  she  could  get  in 
between  the  piers.  So  out  they  went,  past 
silent  wharves  and  sleepy  bridge  keepers,  out 
into  the  gold  of  the  sunrise. 

There  was  the  Foote  nearly  in,  her  old- 
fashioned  engine  coughing  hard,  her  side 
wheels  beating  the  water  to  a  foam,  making  her 
very  best  speed  of  nine  miles  an  hour.  She 
caught  the  signal  from  the  tug,  stopped, 
backed,  and  let  down  her  companion  ladder. 
Captain  Sullivan,  a  grizzled  veteran,  bearing 
evidences  of  hasty  dressing,  was  at  the  rail  to 
meet  them. 

"  Well,"  said  Beveridge,  "  I'm  mighty  glad 
to  see  you,  Captain.  I  didn't  know  whether 
you  were  on  earth  or  not." 

"  I  got  your  message  at  Sturgeon  Bay,  and 
came  right  down." 

"  Did  you  answer  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  somewhat  testily.  "  You 
gave  me  no  Milwaukee  address.  I  sent  it 
to  Lakeville." 


THE   CHASE    BEGINS  233 

"  That  so  ?  They  should  have  forwarded  it. 
They  must  have  gone  to  sleep  down  there." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  that.  All  clear 
down  there  ?  All  right,  Mr.  Ericsen  !  " 

The  tug  backed  away,  the  paddle-wheels 
revolved  again,  and  the  old  steamer  swung 
around  in  a  wide  circle. 

"You  haven't  told  me  where  you  want  to 
go,  Mr.  Beveridge."  Captain  Sullivan  was 
taking  in  Smiley  and  Harper  with  an  eye  that 
knew  no  compromise. 

"We'll  do  that  now,  Cap'n.  Mr.  Smiley 
here  is  going  to  help  us  out  a  little  if  you  will 
show  us  your  chart  of  Lake  Huron." 

"  He  is  !  "  was  the  Captain's  reply.  Then  he 
turned  abruptly  and  led  the  way  up  to  the 
chart  room. 

The  chart  was  spread  out,  and  the  three  men 
bent  over  it. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Smiley,"  said  Beveridge,  "  can 
you  put  your  finger  on  Spencer's  place  ? " 

Dick  did  so. 

"  There's  a  harbor  there,  you  say  ?  " 

"  What's  that  nonsense,"  broke  in  Cap 
tain  Sullivan,  "  a  harbor  behind  False  Middle 
Island  ?  " 


234  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Yes,"  Dick  replied,  "  a  good  one." 

"You'd  better  tell  that  to  the  Hydrographic 
Office." 

"  I  don't  need  to  tell  it  to  anybody.  I've 
been  in  there  with  my  schooner." 

"  When  was  that,  young  man  ?  " 

"  This  month." 

The  Captain  turned  away  with  a  shrug,  and 
joined  his  lieutenant  on  the  bridge.  "  We'll 
make  for  False  Middle  Island,  Mr.  Ericsen, 
just  beyond  Seventy  Mile  Point." 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

Deliberately,  very  deliberately,  the  Foote 
coughed  and  rumbled  northward,  and  Mil 
waukee  fell  away  astern.  She  could  not  hope 
to  catch  the  Merry  Anne  if  the  southerly  breeze 
should  hold.  The  schooner  was  running  light, 
and  even  though  she  might  have  made  but  eighty 
or  ninety  miles  during  the  night,  she  was  by 
this  time  more  than  abreast  of  Milwaukee,  and 
on  the  east  side  of  the  Lake,  where  she  had 
the  advantage  in  the  run  for  the  Straits  of 
Mackinac. 

"  Do  you  think,"  asked  Beveridge,  when  the 
Captain  had  gone  to  the  bridge,  "  that  we  can 
overhaul  her  in  the  Straits  ?  " 


THE    CHASE    BEGINS  235 

Dick  shook  his  head.  "  Hardly.  She  has 
had  a  pretty  steady  breeze  all  night." 

"  But  it  isn't  very  strong." 

"  It  doesn't  need  to  be.  There  is  nothing 
she  likes  better  than  running  before  just  such  a 
breeze.  And  when  the  sun  is  well  up,  it  will 
blow  harder." 

"  Are  you  sure  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  This  here  is  sort  of  an  old  tub,  too." 

Dick  sniffed.  "  You  have  to  watch  the 
bubbles  to  see  which  way  she's  going." 

Beveridge  studied  the  chart.  "  See  here," 
he  said,  "where's  the  Canadian  hangout?" 

Dick  laid  his  finger  on  the  indentation  that 
represented  Burnt  Cove. 

"  Beyond  the — what's  this  —  Duck  Island?" 

"  Just  beyond  the  Duck  Islands." 

"  Which  place  do  you  think  he  will  make 
for  ? " 

"  Well  —  I  can  only  tell  you  what  I 
think." 

"  Go  ahead." 

"  What  McGlory  will  do  will  be  to  head  for 
Spencer  and  take  off  the  old  man." 

"  And  then  run  over  to  Burnt  Cove  ?  " 


236  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  That's  what  I  think.  Burnt  Cove  is  in 
Canada,  you  see." 

"Yes,  I  see  it  is.  The  boundary  line  runs 
down  west  and  south  of  Manitoulin  Island." 

"  If  you  want  to  stop  him  very  bad,  you'd 
better  have  Captain  Sullivan  go  over  to  the 
boundary,  close  to  Outer  Duck  Island,  and 
then  head  for  Spencer.  In  that  way  we  shall 
be  approaching  Spencer  along  the  line  that 
McGlory  must  take  if  he  tries  to  make  the 
cove  ;  and  if  it  is  not  night,  we  ought  to  stand 
a  good  chance  of  sighting  him.  I  figure  that 
we  ought  to  get  up  there  just  about  in  time." 

"  Of  course,  he  doesn't  know  that  we're  so 
hot  on  his  trail,"  mused  Beveridge. 

Dick  sniffed  again.  "  If  you  call  this 
hot." 

The  Captain  returned  from  the  bridge,  and 
Beveridge  repeated  Dick's  suggestion. 

"  How  are  we  to  know  this  schooner?" 

"  She's  sky-blue  with  a  white  line." 

"  Is  she  fast  ?  " 

"  She  don't  need  paddle-wheels  to  beat  this." 

This  remark  did  not  please  Captain  Sullivan. 
He  turned  away. 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  feel,  Smiley,"  said 


THE   CHASE    BEGINS  237 

Beveridge,  "  but  I  didn't  get  much  sleep  last 
night.  Did  you?" 

"  Precious  little." 

Within  a  few  moments,  while  the  colors 
of  the  dawn  were  fading,  while  the  Foote  was 
pounding  heavily  along  northwest  by  north, 
the  special  agents  and  their  two  prisoners  were 
sleeping  like  children. 

At  two  o'clock  Thursday  morning  the  Foote 
lay,  with  motionless  engines  and  lights  ex 
tinguished,  to  the  southward  of  Jennie  Graham 
Shoal,  near  Outer  Duck  Island.  Smiley  and 
Harper,  with  Wilson  close  at  hand,  stood 
leaning  on  the  rail,  watching  a  launch  that  the 
crew  were  lowering  to  the  water. 

"  Well,"  said  Dick,  in  a  low  voice,  "  it 
looks  as  if  we  might  get  them." 

"Shouldn't  wonder,"  Wilson  replied.  He, 
too,  was  subdued  by  the  strain. 

"Pretty  dark,  though." 

"That  isn't  all  on  their  side." 

"  No,  perhaps  it  isn't.  Going  to  put  out 
both  launches,  eh  ?  " 

"It  looks  that  way." 

Cautiously  and  swiftly  the  sailors  worked. 
One  launch,  and  then  the  other,  was  lowered 
into  the  water. 


238  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"Pretty  neat,  ain't  It?"  whispered  Pink. 
"  Why,  with  this  wind  they've  got  to  run  in 
right  by  one  or  other  of  the  boats  to  get  to 
Burnt  Cove.  Would  they  let  us  sail  the  Anne 
around,  think,  if  they  get  her  back?" 

Dick  shook  his  head. 

Farther  aft  Beveridge  was  talking  to  Cap 
tain  Sullivan.  "  It's  the  only  thing  to  do, 
Captain.  With  him  along,  we  can't  miss  her." 

"  I've  nothing  more  to  say.  I  don't  like  it; 
but  he's  your  man." 

"  One  thing  more,  Captain.  It  won't  hardly 
be  necessary  to  send  an  officer  with  me." 

"But  —  " 

"  You  see  Wilson  and  myself,  and  about  four 
husky  sailors,  a  couple  of  'em  to  run  the 
launch,  will  be  enough.  Why  not  just  leave  it 
that  way  ?  You  might  tell  your  men  they're  to 
take  my  orders." 

His  meaning  was  obvious  to  the  Captain ; 
but  he  hesitated.  This  man  Beveridge  was 
young  and  bumptious.  Irregular  things  had 
sometimes  to  be  done,  but  it  were  best  that 
they  should  be  done  by  a  seasoned  officer. 
Still,  it  was  Beveridge's  case.  They  walked 
together  toward  the  prisoners. 


THE   CHASE    BEGINS  239 

"  Smiley,"  said  Beveridge,  "  I'm  going  to 
take  you  along.  I  guess  there  isn't  much 
doubt  you  could  tell  your  schooner  in  the 
dark?" 

"Tell  her  in  the  dark!"  exclaimed  Pink. 
"  Why,  he  knows  the  squeak  of  every  block  !  " 

So  Dick  went.  The  Captain  added  a  fifth 
sailor  for  safety,  and  took  time  to  give  him  a 
few  quiet  instructions  before  he  joined  the 
launch.  Then  they  pushed  off  and  slipped 
away  into  the  night.  For  four  hours  after 
that,  the  only  sound  heard  aboard  the  Foote, 
where  Pink,  sleepless,  hung  over  the  rail, 
guarded  by  a  deep-chested  sailor,  was  the 
occasional  puff-puff  of  one  of  the  launches  as 
it  changed  its  post.  A  dozen  pairs  of  eyes 
were  searching  the  dark,  looking  for  any  craft 
that  might  be  coming  from  Michigan. 

As  Captain  Sullivan  suspected,  Beveridge's 
launch  was  over  the  Canadian  boundary  half  an 
hour  after  she  lost  sight  of  the  ship.  Then 
Beveridge  drew  Dick  back  near  the  boiler. 
"  Tell  me  this,  Smiley.  Do  you  think  those 
fellows  could  possibly  have  got  through  before 
now?" 

"  I  haven't  much  doubt  of  it." 


240  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

"What  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

"  Because  of  the  wind.  It  has  never  let 
down  a  minute  since  they  started.  If  they 
lost  no  time  at  Spencer's,  they  could  have  done 
it  easily." 

"  That's  what  I  thought.  Will  you  take  the 
wheel  and  pilot  us  into  Burnt  Cove  ? " 

"  Sure,  if  you  want  me  to." 

Dick  took  the  wheel.  The  fifth  sailor 
spoke  up.  "  You  can't  do  that,  sir." 

"  Can't  do  what  ?  "  said  Beveridge. 

"  Take  the  wheel,  sir.  Powers  is  to  keep 
the  wheel.  That's  the  orders." 

"  There's  nobody  but  me  giving  orders 
here." 

"  Sorry,  sir  ;  but  Powers  has  got  to  keep  the 
wheel." 

"  We  won't  have  any  talk  about  this,  young 
man.  I'm  a  special  agent  of  the  United 
States  Treasury  Department,  and  I'm  running 
this  business.  Powers  can  sit  down." 

The  sailor's  orders  evidently  did  not  warrant 
him  to  resist  further. 

Dick  looked  about  for  his  bearings.  Dimly 
he  could  make  out  the  islands  to  the  left. 
"  What  does  she  draw  ?  "  he  asked. 


THE   CHASE   BEGINS  241 

"  Two  feet." 

With  only  two  feet  of  draft  he  could  take 
chances.  He  was  directly  on  the  course  that 
the  Merry  Anne  had  taken  in  leaving  the  cove, 
and  he  felt  as  certain,  with  the  compass  before 
him,  as  if  he  had  made  the  trip  by  night  a 
hundred  times.  There  was  very  little  sea,  and 
the  launch  made  good  progress.  "  You  might 
tell  the  engineer  to  crowd  her  all  he  can,"  he 
said  to  Beveridge.  "  It's  quite  a  run." 

Once  Dick  glanced  back ;  and  he  winced. 
There  sat  Wilson,  on  his  left  hand  and  not  a 
yard  away,  with  a  rifle  across  his  knees.  At 
this  moment  Beveridge  returned  from  a 
whispered  consultation  with  the  engineer,  and 
scowled  at  his  assistant.  "  That  isn't  neces 
sary,  Bert,"  said  he.  "  Put  it  up." 

The  overzealous  young  man  laid  the  rifle 
on  the  seat  behind  him  ;  and  Beveridge,  after 
a  moment  of  hard  thinking,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
Dick's  muscular  back,  came  up  beside  the 
wheel  and  leaned  on  the  coamings.  Dick's 
gaze  left  the  compass  only  for  the  darkness 
ahead,  where  the  outline  of  something  that  he 
knew  to  be  a  coast  line  was,  to  his  trained  eye, 
taking  shape. 


242  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Say,  Smiley," — the  special  agent's  voice  was 
lowered  ;  his  tone  was  friendly,  —  "  don't  let  that 
bother  you.  Nobody  is  holding  a  gun  on  you 
here.  That  isn't  my  way  —  with  you." 

Dick's  eyes  were  fixed  painfully  on  the 
compass. 

"  I  just  want  you  to  know  that  it  was  a  mis 
take.  These  guns  aren't  for  you." 

Beveridge,  having  said  enough,  was  now 
silent.  Apparently  too  boyish  for  his  work, 
often  careless  in  his  talk,  he  was  handling 
Smiley  right,  and  so  well  did  he  know  it  that 
he  was  willing  to  lounge  there  at  his  prisoner's 
elbow  and  watch  the  course  in  silence.  If 
Beveridge  was  ambitious,  greedy  for  success 
and  promotion,  frequently  unscrupulous  as  to 
the  means  to  be  employed,  —  as  now,  when 
he  was  deliberately  going  into  English  territory, 
an  almost  unheard-of  and  certainly  unlawful 
performance,  —  hard,  even  merciless,  so  long 
as  he  regarded  only  his  "  case "  ;  he  was  also 
impulsive  and  sometimes  warm  hearted  when 
appealed  to  on  the  personal  side.  He  had, 
before  now,  gone  intuitively  to  the  heart  of 
problems  that  stronger  minds  than  his,  relying 
on  reasoning  alone,  had  been  unable  to  solve. 


THE   CHASE    BEGINS  243 

Much  as  a  bank  teller  detects  instantly  a  coun 
terfeit  bill  or  coin,  he  picked  his  man.  He  was 
quick  to  feel  the  difference  between  a  right- 
minded  man  who  has  fallen  into  wrong  ways  and 
the  really  wrong-minded  man.  His  course  to 
night  was  a  triumph.  He  had  given  his  pris 
oner  the  means  to  lead  his  little  party  to 
destruction,  but  he  knew  perfectly  that  nothing 
of  the  sort  would  be  done.  More,  the  only 
man  aboard  who  could  prove  in  court  that  he 
had  gone  over  that  vague  thing,  the  boundary 
line,  was  this  same  prisoner,  who  should,  by  all 
sensible  thinking,  be  the  last  man  to  trust  with 
such  information ;  and  yet  he  felt  perfectly 
comfortable  as  he  leaned  out  a  little  way  and 
watched  the  foam  slipping  away  from  the  bow. 

The  launch  went  on  toward  the  increasing 
shadows,  plunged  through  the  surf,  and  glided 
into  the  cove. 

"  See  anything  ?  "  whispered  Beveridge. 

"  Not  a  thing,"  Smiley  replied. 

"  She  isn't  here,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,  neither  of  them." 

"  Neither  of  what  ?  " 

"  Neither  the  Anne  nor  the  Esfelle,  Spencer's 
schooner.  Shall  we  go  back  outside  ?  " 


244  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"Yes." 

"  You  speak  to  the  engineer,  then.  This 
bell  makes  too  much  noise." 

They  backed  cautiously  around  and  returned 
through  the  surf  to  deep  water. 

"  Lie  up  a  little  way  off  the  shore  here," 
said  Beveridge ;  "  we'll  cut  them  off  if  they 
try  to  get  in." 

For  a  moment  nothing  was  said ;  then  this 
from  Smiley,  "  Do  you  mind  my  saying  a 
word  ? " 

"  No.     What  ?  " 

"  It  has  just  struck  me  —  we  are  wasting 
time  here." 

"  You  think  so  ?  " 

"  I  know  so." 

"Why?" 

"It  stands  to  reason  that  McGlory  would 
expect  to  be  chased,  don't  it  ? " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Well,  then,  he  is  not  going  to  put  right 
over  here  after  he  has  taken  off  old  Spencer,  is 
he  ?  It's  almost  like  running  back  on  his 
course  —  amounts  to  the  same  thing." 

"  But  he  is  likely  to  come  here,  isn't  he  ? " 

"  I  should  think  so." 


THE    CHASE    BEGINS  245 

"  Well,"  impatiently,  "  how  else  could  he  do 
it?" 

"  Easily  enough.  He  could  go  right  on 
east  from  Spencer's  place  and  make  for  Owen 
Channel,  up  near  the  head  of  Georgian  Bay. 
That's  at  the  other  end  of  this  island." 

"  Manitoulin  Island  ?     Is  it  as  big  as  that  ?  " 

"Yes,  it  lies  all  across  this  end  of  Lake 
Huron.  If  he  went  through  Owen  Channel, 
he  could  get  around  into  the  North  Channel, 
and  then  down  into  Bayfield  Sound  and  Lake 
Wolsey.  Bayfield  Sound,  you  see,  pretty 
nearly  cuts  the  island  in  halves.  It  is  right  op 
posite  here,  only  a  few  miles  overland.  That 
would  be  a  long  way  around,  but  it  is  the  safe 
way.  You  see,  I've  been  thinking  —  " 

"Well  — what?" 

"  Why,  he  would  be  likely  to  think  just 
like  I  did,  that  when  you  had  got  up  here 
you  wouldn't  be  able  to  resist  coming  on 
across  the  line." 

"You  seem  to  know  these  routes  pretty 
well  for  a  man  who  has  been  to  Spencer's  only 
once." 

"  I  saw  it  on  the  chart  the  other  day.  A 
man  couldn't  help  figuring  that  out." 


246  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  What  would  you  suggest  doing?  " 

"  Putting  for  Spencer's,  just  as  tight  as  your 
old  stationary  wash-tub  can  make  it." 

"  But  hold  on,  now.  If  you  think  they 
have  got  away  from  there  long  ago  — " 

"  I  think  that,  but  I'm  not  sure.  Supposing 
they  have  —  then  you've  lost  them  anyhow. 
Don't  you  see  ?  But  suppose  there  was  a 
delay  in  getting  away  there,  —  it's  more  than 
likely  McGlory  and  Spencer  wouldn't  agree. 
McGlory  isn't  the  agreeing  kind,  and  I  don't 
think  Spencer  is  either.  It  will  be  daylight 
before  so  very  long,  and  with  this  wind  they 
can't  get  here,  if  they're  coming  here  at  all, 
without  our  sighting  them  on  the  way  over. 
And  there  is  just  a  righting  chance  of  catching 
them  there  before  they  make  for  Georgian 
Bay,  or  some  other  place  we  don't  know  of." 

Beveridge  thought  a  moment.  "  There  is 
something  in  that.  We'll  do  it." 

At  mid-morning  the  Foote  stopped  her 
engines  abreast  of  False  Middle  Island,  and 
Captain  Sullivan  sent  for  Beveridge. 

"  You  tell  me  there  is  a  harbor  in  there  ? " 

"  That's  what  I  understand.  But  it  won't 
be  necessary  to  take  the  steamer  in." 


THE   CHASE    BEGINS  247 

The  Captain's  expression  showed  that  he 
had  not  the  slightest  notion  of  taking  her  in. 

"  I  think,"  Beveridge  went  on,  "  that  you 
had  better  put  me  ashore  with  a  few  men  in 
there  north  of  the  island.  I'll  go  around 
behind  the  sand-dunes  and  come  on  the  place 
from  the  woods.  Then  if  they  should  be 
there,  and  if  they  should  try  to  run  out,  you 
can  stop  them.  I'll  have  Smiley  guide  me." 

"You're  going  to  take  him  ashore  with 
you  ?  " 

"  That's  what  I'm  going  to  do." 

"  I  don't  believe  in  this  !  " 

Beveridge  said  nothing. 

"  Oh,  very  well.     I'll  have  a  boat  ready." 

Smiley  was  called,  and  Beveridge  drew  him 
aside  and  outlined  his  plan.  Shortly  Wilson 
joined  them,  and  a  half-dozen  sailors  were 
picked  from  the  crew.  Then,  all  but  Smiley 
armed  with  rifles  and  revolvers,  they  descended 
to  the  small  boat  and  were  brought  rapidly  to 
the  shore. 

"  Which  way  ? "  asked  Beveridge,  sticking 
close  at  Smiley 's  elbow. 

"  I'll  show  you  ;  come  along."  He  led  the 
way  back  among  the  pines  and  made  a  circuit, 


248  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

bringing  up  squarely  on  the  landward  side  of 
the  settlement. 

"  Where  is  it  now,  Smiley  ?  " 

"  Right  there." 

Beveridge  peered  out  through  the  trees,  then 
beckoned  his  men  together.  "  Come  in  close, 
boys,  and  pick  your  trees.  Keep  out  of  sight 
—  and  quiet.  Take  my  rifle,  one  of  you." 

"  Shall  we  go  in  ?  "  asked  Wilson. 

"  You  stay  here,  Bert." 

"  Hadn't  you  better  take  your  rifle  ? " 

"  No,  I  don't  want  it.     Quiet  now." 

The  men  spread  out,  taking  places  where 
they  could  command  the  outbuildings. 

"Smiley?" 

"Yes." 

"  Which  is  Spencer's  house  —  where  he  lives 
himself? " 

"The  biggest  one.  You  can  see  the  roof 
over  that  shed  there." 

"  All  right.     Much  obliged." 

Beveridge  walked  rapidly  out  into  the  clear 
ing  and  disappeared  around  the  shed.  They 
heard  him  mount  Spencer's  front  steps  and 
knock. 

"  He's  plucky  enough,"  muttered  Dick. 


THE   CHASE   BEGINS  249 

"  Oh,  don't  you  worry  about  Bill  Beveridge," 
said  Wilson.  "Why,  I've  seen  him  —  '* 

But  Beveridge  was  calling  for  them  to  join 
him. 

"  Nobody  here  ?  "  asked  Wilson. 

"  Not  a  soul.  I  took  a  look  around  the 
house.  They  left  in  a  hurry.  See  there." 

He  nodded  toward  the  harbor.  There  lay 
the  Merry  Anne  at  the  wharf.  The  smaller 
schooner  was  not  to  be  seen. 

"  Too  late,  eh  ?  "  said  Wilson. 

"Too  late." 

"  Suppose  they've  gone  overland  ?  " 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  They  left  Smiley's 
schooner  here  and  went  off  in  Spencer's." 

"  Oh,  he  had  one  too  ? " 

"  Certainly  he  did." 

Dick  had  made  headlong  for  the  schooner. 
Now  they  saw  him  standing  on  the  after  deck 
house,  reading  a  paper  which  he  had  found 
nailed  to  the  mast. 

"  What  have  you  there  ?  "  called  Beveridge. 

"  Come  and  see." 

The  special  agent  joined  him  and  took  the 
paper.  "  It's  hard  enough  to  read.  Whoever 
wrote  this  was  in  a  big  hurry.  What's  this  ? 


250  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

1  Left  again.  You'd  better  foot  it  home. 
Whiskey  Jim.'  Whiskey  Jim,  eh?  He's 
stealing  your  thunder,  Smiley." 

"  Will  you  let  me  see  it  again  ?  "  said  Dick. 
He  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  deck-house 
and  read  it  over,  gazing  at  it  with  fascinated 
eyes.  The  other  men  watched  him  curiously. 


CHAPTER   X 

THURSDAY   NIGHT  — THE   GINGHAM 
DRESS 


CHAPTER   X 

THURSDAY   NIGHT  — THE   GINGHAM   DRESS 

"TT7ELL,"  said  Wilson,   "what   do   you 

W    think?" 

"  We'll  do  our  thinking  later.  Take  these 
men  and  search  the  place.  Smiley  and  I  will 
wait  here." 

"You  don't  expect  them  to  find  anything, 
do  you  ? "  asked  Dick,  when  the  others  had 
gone. 

"  Can't  say.  We've  lost  the  men,  but  we 
may  get  some  evidence." 

"  Where  do  you  think  they  are  ? " 

"  Where  could  they  be  but  in  Canada  ? " 

Dick  was  silent. 

"  Say,  Smiley,  I  like  the  way  you're  acting 
in  this  business.  If  anything  on  earth  will 
make  it  any  brighter  for  you,  it  is  what  you  are 
doing  now.  You  might  even  go  a  step  farther 
if  you  should  feel  like  it  any  time.  It's  plain 
253 


254  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

that  McGlory  and  Spencer  are  pretty  deep  in, 
and  if  you  would  come  out  and  tell  all  you 
know,  it  might  help  you  a  lot." 

"  I  have  told  all  I  know." 

"  Oh,  of  course,  —  that's  just  as  you 
like." 

They  were  silent  again  for  a  few  moments. 
Then  Dick  spoke  up.  "You  feel  pretty  sure 
about  their  being  in  Canada,  don't  you  ? " 

"  Have  you  thought  of  anything  else  ?  " 

"Yes.  Where  is  the  other  revenue  cutter 
now?" 

"The  Porter?  At  Buffalo,  I  think,  — or 
Cleveland,  or  Detroit." 

"  And  she's  about  twice  as  fast  as  the  Foote, 
isn't  she  ? " 

"Just  about." 

"  Well,  now,  supposing  they  weren't  sure 
but  what  she  would  be  sent  up  here  too  ?  It 
was  as  likely  as  not." 

"  It  should  have  been  done." 

"Then  wouldn't  they  have  been  fools  to 
have  put  right  out  again  to  cross  the  Lake  — 
with  one  steamer  coming  down  on  'em  through 
the  Straits  and  another  coming  up  from 
Detroit  ? " 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  255 

"  Fools  or  not,  they  did  it.  We  know  that 
much." 

"  Do  we  ?  " 

"  Don't  we  !  " 

"  I  don't  see  it." 

"  Don't  you  see  what  they've  done  ?  They 
have  left  your  schooner  here  and  gone  off  in 
Spencer's." 

"  Who  has  ?  " 

"  Look  here,  Smiley,  you  are  on  the  wrong 
side  of  this  case.  You  ought  to  be  working 
for  the  government." 

"  I  may  be  before  I  get  through  with  it. 
You  see  what  I'm  driving  at,  don't  you  ? " 

"About  yourself?" 

"  Hang  myself.     About  Spencer." 

"  And  McGlory  ? " 

"  No,  not  McGlory.     Just  Spencer." 

"  Why  not  McGlory  ?  " 

"Just  this  — " 

Wilson  approached.  "  There's  nobody  here, 
Bill." 

"  Wait  over  there  a  minute,  Bert,  with  the 
boys.  Go  on,  Smiley." 

"  McGlory  is  a  sailor ;  Spencer  isn't. 
McGlory  would  feel  safer  on  a  boat ;  Spencer 


256  THE    MERRT  ANNE 

knows  these  woods  like  a  book.  Do  you 
follow  ? " 

«  Go  on." 

"  Now,  I'm  just  as  sure  as  that  I'm  sitting 
here,  that  when  it  came  to  a  crisis  like  this, 
those  two  would  disagree." 

"And  you  ought  to  know  them." 

"  I  know  McGlory.  He  isn't  the  kind  that 
takes  orders  from  anybody,  drunk  or  sober. 
And  from  the  look  I  had  at  old  Spencer,  I 
don't  think  he  is  either.  He  looked  to  me 
like  a  cool  hand.  Quiet,  you  know,  with  a 
sort  of  cold  eye.  It  doesn't  sound  like 
Spencer  to  put  out  into  the  Lake  with  revenue 
cutters  closing  in  all  around  him." 

"  But  does  it  sound  like  McGlory  ?  " 

"  Exactly.      He's  bull  headed." 

"Then  you  think  the  ether  schooner  was 
here  ? " 

"  More  than  likely." 

"  And  McGlory  took  it  and  Spencer  didn't  ?  " 

"  That's  getting  near  it." 

"  And  who  wrote  that  note  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  never  saw  Spencer's 
writing,  and  McGlory's  only  once  or  twice.  It's 
written  rough,  but  it  looks  familiar,  somehow." 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  257 

"  McGlory's  work  then,  likely  ?  " 

"  Maybe." 

"  But  what  object  would  Spencer  have  in 
staying  behind  ?  Where  could  he  go  ?  " 

"  He  could  get  out  of  Michigan  and  down 
to  Mexico  without  one  chance  in  a  hundred 
of  being  caught  —  not  unless  you  had  men  on 
every  train  in  the  United  States." 

"  You  mean  he  would  make  for  a  railway  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  But  he  would  have  to  go  to  Alpena  to  do 
it." 

"  Not  a  bit.  He  needn't  go  anywhere  near 
the  coast.  There's  a  town  called  Hewittson, 
on  the  Central  Road,  about  fifty  miles  back  in 
the  woods,  southwest  of  here.  It's  the  termi 
nal  of  a  branch  line,  and  it's  the  nearest  point." 

"  Even  then  he  would  have  to  go  through 
Detroit  or  Michigan  City,  where  we  have  men." 

"  No,  he  wouldn't.  He  could  get  over  to 
the  Grand  Rapids  and  Indiana  with  a  few 
changes  and  without  passing  through  a  single 
big  town.  When  he  once  got  down  there  in 
Indiana,  you  would  have  a  pretty  vigorous  time 
catching  him." 

Beveridge  mused.     "  This  is  all  very  inter- 


258  THE    MERRT  ANNE 

esting,  Smiley,  but  it  is  hardly  enough  to  act 

» 
on. 

"  Isn't  it,  though  ?  What  earthly  good 
could  you  do  on  the  water  that  Captain  Sullivan 
couldn't  do  just  as  well  without  you  ?  There 
he  is  with  his  men,  and  he  ought  to  do  what 
you  tell  him." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Beveridge, 
with  a  smile. 

"  Anyhow,"  Dick  went  on  eagerly,  "  the 
old  Foote  isn't  going  to  make  any  more  miles 
an  hour  for  having  you  on  board." 

"  There's  something  in  that.  You  seem  to 
be  keen  on  this  business." 

"  Keen !  Good  Lord,  man !  don't  you 
see  the  position  I'm  in  ?  Don't  you  see 
that  my  only  chance  is  to  help  you  run  this 
down  and  get  at  the  facts?  Honest,  I  don't 
see  what  you  could  lose  by  taking  a  flier  over 
land  to  Hewittson.  It's  just  one  more  chance 
opened  up  for  you,  and  you  ought  to  take  it." 

"  How  did  you  happen  to  know  so  much 
about  these  railroads  up  here  ?  " 

"You  didn't  suppose  I  had  my  eyes  shut 
when  I  was  looking  at  that  chart  the  other  day, 
did  you  ? " 


THE   GINGHAM    DRESS  259 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  took  in  a  lot  in  a 
thundering  short  time." 

"  Of  course  I  did.  It  is  my  business  to 
take  in  a  lot  when  I  look  at  a  chart." 

"  Well,  this  is  interesting,  Smiley.  I'll  think 
it  over.  Come  on,  boys." 

The  sailors  rowed  them  back  to  the  steamer ; 
and  the  special  agent  was  promptly  closeted 
with  Captain  Sullivan.  He  laid  out  the  whole 
situation,  suggesting  that  the  Captain  keep  a 
close  watch  on  the  Burnt  Cove  region  and  that 
he  leave  a  launch  at  Spencer's.  The  fugitives 
had  left  nearly  all  they  had,  even  to  cloth 
ing,  behind,  and  it  was  conceivable  that  they 
might  return. 

"  I  wish,"  he  added,  as  he  rose  to  go,  "  that 
I  could  call  on  the  county  authorities.  Wilson 
and  I  may  have  our  hands  full  if  we  meet 
them." 

"  You  think  you'd  better  not  ?  " 

"  Hardly.  It  is  even  chances  that  they  are 
mixed  up  in  the  business  some  way.  Spencer 
has  known  them  longer  than  we  have." 

He  left  the  Captain's  stateroom,  and  found 
Smiley  waiting  for  him  by  the  wheel-house. 

"There's  one  thing  I   didn't  say  when  we 


260  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

were  talking,"  began  the  prisoner,  looking  with 
some  hesitation  at  the  agent. 

"What's  that,  Smiley?  Speak  up.  I'm 
starting  now." 

"  You're  going  to  try  it,  then  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Will  you  take  Pink  and  me  with  you  ?  " 

Beveridge  straightened  up  and  flashed  a 
keen,  inquiring  glance  through  Dick's  eyes, 
down  to  the  bottom  of  his  soul.  Dick  met 
it  squarely. 

"  By  Jove  ! "  said  Beveridge. 

Not  a  word  said  Smiley. 

"  By  Jove  !  I'll  do  it !  " 

Dick  turned  away,  limp. 

"  Smiley  ! " 

He  turned  back. 

"Where's  Harper?" 

"  Down  below." 

"  Bring  him  to  my  stateroom.  Be  quick 
about  it." 

A  very  few  moments  more,  and  Dick  and 
Harper  knocked  at  the  special  agent's  door. 

"Come  in." 

They  entered,  and  found  Beveridge  and 
Wilson  together.  Beveridge  closed  the  door, 


THE   GINGHAM    DRESS  261 

and  there  the  four  men  stood,  crowded  together 
in  the  narrow  space.  Beveridge  gave  them 
another  of  his  sharp  glances,  then  he  drew 
from  his  coat  pockets  two  revolvers  and  held 
them  out,  one  in  each  hand. 

Dick  and  Pink  looked  speechless. 

"  Well,  take  'em.  You  boys  are  to  help  me 
see  this  thing  through,  now." 

"  Do  you  —  do  you  mean  that  ? " 

"  I  don't  joke  with  pistols." 

Without  more  words  each  reached  out. 
Dick  thrust  his  into  his  hip  pocket ;  but 
Pink  opened  his  and  looked  at  the  loaded 
cylinder. 

"  Now,  boys,"  said  Beveridge,  "  we're  off." 

Wilson  descended  first  to  the  launch,  and 
Dick  was  about  to  follow  when  Captain  Sulli 
van  hurried  up  and  caught  his  arm.  "  Here, 
here  !  This  won't  do  !  " 

Dick  turned,  and  started  to  speak ;  then, 
seeing  that  Beveridge  was  approaching,  he 
waited. 

"  That's  all  right,  Captain,"  called  the  special 
agent ;  "  let  him  go." 

"  Let  him  go  !  " 

Beveridge  drew  the  Captain  aside. 


26i  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  You  aren't  going  to  take  him  ashore  with 
you  ? " 

"  Yes,  both  of  'em." 

Anger  was  struggling  with  disgust  in  the 
Captain's  face.  "  You'd  better  hand  'em  re 
volvers  and  be  done  with  it." 

"  I've  done  that  already." 

"  Oh,  you  have  I  " 

"Yes,  sir.  And  I  don't  mind  telling  you 
that,  guilty  or  not,  there  aren't  two  men  I'd 
feel  safer  with  in  the  Southern  Peninsula." 

"  Oh,  there  airit!  "  A  feeble  reply,  but  the 
old  Captain  was  beyond  words.  "Very  well," 
was  all  he  could  get  out,  "  very  well !  " 

With  that  they  parted ;  and  the  boat,  with 
the  strangely  selected  party  aboard,  made  for 
the  shore. 

"  Now,  Smiley,"  said  Beveridge,  when  the 
boat  had  left  them  on  the  sand,  "  how  about 
our  direction  ? " 

"  Exactly  southwest  from  here.  I  suppose 
we  shall  have  to  make  for  Hewittson  in  a 
straight  line,  and  see  if  we  can't  get  there  first." 

A  sort  of  road  led  off  in  a  southwesterly 
direction,  and  this  they  followed  for  an  hour. 
Then  it  swung  off  to  the  left,  and  they 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  263 

plunged  into  the  forest,  from  now  on  to  be 
guided  only  by  the  compass.  The  afternoon 
wore  along.  For  two  hours,  three  hours, 
four  hours,  they  tramped  through  the  forest, 
which  now  opened  out  into  a  vista  of  brown 
carpet  and  cool  shade,  now  ran  to  a  blackened 
jungle  of  stumps  and  undergrowth  ;  but  always 
underfoot  was  the  sand,  no  longer  white  but 
yellow  and  of  a  dustlike  quality.  It  gave 
under  the  foot  at  every  step  ;  it  rose  about 
them  and  got  into  their  throats  and  finally 
into  their  tempers. 

"  Say,  Smiley,"  called  Wilson.  He  had 
swung  his  coat  over  his  shoulder ;  his  face 
was  streaked  with  sweat  and  dirt;  the  spring 
was  gone  from  his  stride.  "  Say,  Smiley, 
where  are  those  streams  you  were  talking 
about  ?  " 

"Give  it  up." 

"  This  is  a  pretty  place  you're  getting  us 
into." 

"  Shut  up,  Bert !  "  said  Beveridge.  "  You 
tend  to  business,  and  quit  talking." 

"  Who's  talking  ?  Can't  I  ask  a  civil 
question  ? " 

"  From  the  sound,  I  guess  you  can't." 


264  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"You're  saying  a  word  too  much  there, 
Bill  Beveridge!" 

Beveridge  stopped  short  and  wheeled 
around.  He  had  tied  the  sleeves  of  his  coat 
through  one  suspender  so  that  it  hung  about 
his  knees  and  flapped  when  he  walked.  His 
waistcoat  was  open,  his  collar  was  melted  to  a 
rag ;  altogether  he  was  nearly  as  tired  and  hot 
as  his  assistant. 

"What  do  you  say  to  sitting  down  a 
minute  ?  "  suggested  Smiley,  diplomatically. 

But  Wilson  returned  to  the  attack.  "  How 
long  are  you  going  to  keep  on  this  way, 
Bill?" 

The  obstinate  quality  in  Wilson's  voice 
roused  a  counter-obstinacy  in  Beveridge. 
He  decided  not  to  reply. 

"  Maybe  the  sand's  getting  into  his  ears 
so  he  can't  hear  well,"  said  Wilson,  addressing 
Harper  as  nearly  as  anybody.  But  Pink, 
rather  than  get  into  the  controversy,  went  off 
a  little  way  to  a  spruce  tree  and  fell  to  cutting 
off  a  piece  of  the  gum. 

"  It's  just  as  you  like,  Bill,"  pursued 
Wilson.  "  Of  course,  it  ain't  any  of  my 
business,  —  but  I  just  thought  I'd  tell  you  we 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  265 

passed  that  big  clump  of  pines  over  there 
about  two  hours  and  a  half  ago." 

In  spite  of  him,  Beveridge's  eyes  sought 
the  spot  indicated. 

"  I  don't  care,  you  understand,  Bill.  I'll 
go  where  I'm  ordered.  But  if  you  will  go  on 
trusting  that  compass  of  yours,  don't  you  think 
maybe  we'd  better  be  thinking  about  saving 
up  what  sandwiches  we've  got  left?  These 
Michigan  woods  ain't  a  very  cheerful  spot  to 
spend  the  fall,  unless  you've  planned  that 
way,  you  know,  —  brought  tents  and  things, 
and  maybe  a  little  canned  stuff." 

"  Oh,  go  to !  "  muttered  Beveridge, 

without  turning. 

"  What's  that  you  said  ? "  Wilson  was  on 
his  feet. 

Here  Smiley  broke  in  with  the  suggestion 
that  they  try  marking  trees. 

And  for  an  hour  they  were  tearing  their 
shirts  to  strips,  and  sighting  forward  from  tree 
to  tree ;  then  the  early  twilight  began  to  settle 
on  the  forest.  They  spoke  of  it  no  more,  but 
pushed  on  feverishly  under  the  leadership  of 
Beveridge,  whose  spirits,  which  had  reached 
low-water  mark  in  the  difference  with  Wilson, 


266  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

were  flowing  again.  From  rapid  walking  they 
took  to  running;  still  the  twilight  deepened. 
Finally  the  uneven  ground  and  the  deep 
shadows  led  them  into  scratches  and  tumbles, 
and  they  were  obliged  to  stop. 

"  Bill,"  said  Wilson,  "look  over  there." 

"Where?" 

"  That  tree  —  runs  up  six  feet  or  so,  and 
shoots  off  over  the  ground,  and  then  turns 
square  up  again." 

"  Yes.  What  about  it  ?  "  A  queer  sound 
was  creeping  into  the  special  agent's  voice. 

"  Don't  you  remember  —  about  three 
o'clock  —  the  tree  we  passed  ?  Harper  said 
it  was  exactly  like  a  figure  four,  because  of  the 
broken  part  that  stuck  up  above  the  branch,  — 
and  you  said  —  " 

"Well,  but  —  " 

"  Just  take  a  good  look  at  it." 

Beveridge  stepped  a  little  way  forward  and 
looked  and  looked. 

"  Well  ? " 

Beveridge  was  silent.  His  eyes  left  the  tree 
only  to  fix  themselves  on  the  ground. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Bill  ?  " 

Instead     of    replying,    the     special     agent 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  267 

turned  abruptly  and  walked  away  through  the 
brush.  He  soon  disappeared,  but  his  as 
sistant  could  hear  him  thrashing  along.  In  a 
few  moments  he  returned,  and  without  a  word 
set  about  building  a  fire.  They  all  lent  a  hand, 
and  soon  were  sitting  around  the  blaze,  moody 
and  silent. 

"Say,  boys,"  —  it  was  Smiley  speaking  up, 
—  "I  have  an  idea.  Let  me  take  your  com 
pass  a  minute,  Beveridge." 

There  was  no  reply.  Smiley  thought  he 
had  not  been  understood.  "  Let's  have  your 
compass,  Beveridge." 

Then  the  special  agent  looked  up.  "If 
you  can  find  it,  you're  welcome  to  it,"  he  said. 

"  Why,  you  haven't  lost  it  ?  " 

"  If  you've  got  to  know,  I've  thrown  it." 

"  The you  have  !  " 

A  moment's  silence.  Somewhere  off  in  the 
wilderness  a  twig  crackled,  and  they  all  started. 
Harper's  scalp  tingled  during  the  long  stillness 
that  followed  the  sound. 

"  What  did  you  do  that  for  ? "  asked  Smiley. 

"  Because  we're  sitting  at  this  moment  within 
a  hundred  feet  of  where  we  sat  at  three  o'clock 
this  afternoon." 


268  THE    MERRT  ANNE 

After  this  the  silence  grew  unbearable.  "  I 
don't  know  how  you  fellows  feel,"  said  Wilson, 
"  but  I'm  thirsty  clear  down  to  my  toes.  If 
there's  any  water  around  here,  I'm  going  to 
find  it."  He  drew  a  blazing  pine  knot  from 
the  fire  and  started  off. 

"  Look  out  you  don't  set  the  woods  afire," 
growled  Beveridge. 

For  five  minutes  —  long  minutes  —  the  three 
sat  there  and  waited.  Then  they  heard  him 
approaching,  and  saw  his  light  flickering  between 
the  trees.  He  came  into  the  firelight,  and 
paused,  looking  from  one  to  another  with  a 
curious  expression.  It  almost  seemed  that  he 
was  veiling  a  smile. 

"  Come  this  way,"  he  finally  said.  And  they 
got  up  and  filed  after  him.  He  led  them  a 
short  fifty  yards,  and  paused.  They  stood  on 
the  edge  of  a  clearing.  A  few  rods  away  they 
saw  a  story-and-a-half  farm-house,  with  a  light 
in  the  kitchen  window.  Farther  off  loomed 
the  outline  of  a  large  barn.  They  stumbled 
on,  and  found  midway  between  the  two  build 
ings  a  well  with  a  bucket  worked  by  a  crank 
and  chain. 

They  could  not  speak ;  they  looked  at  one 


THE   GINGHAM   DRESS  269 

another  and  grinned  foolishly.  Then  Bever- 
idge  reached  for  the  crank,  but  Dick  caught 
his  arm. 

"  Hold  on  there,  Bill,"  he  said  fervently, 
drawing  a  small  flask  from  his  hip  pocket, 
"  you  wouldn't  spoil  a  thirst  like  this  with 
water  ? " 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you've  had 
this  in  your  clothes  all  along  ?  "  said  Bever- 
idge. 

"  Yes.  I  thought  from  the  way  things  were 
going  we  might  need  it  more  to-morrow  than 
to-day." 

There  was  a  general  smacking  of  lips  as  the 
flask  went  around.  Then  they  paused  and 
looked  at  the  house. 

"  Well,"  observed  Beveridge,  "  I'm  not  sure 
that  I  want  to  be  told  where  we  are  —  but  here 
goes !  "  And  he  walked  slowly  toward  the 
kitchen  door,  sweeping  his  eyes  about  the  farm 
yard  and  taking  in  all  that  could  be  seen  in  the 
darkness.  At  his  knock  there  was  a  noise  in 
the  kitchen,  —  the  sound  of  a  chair  scrap 
ing, —  and  the  door  was  opened  a  very  little 
way. 

"  How  are  you  ? "  began  the  special  agent. 


270  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

The  farmer,  for  it  was  he  who  blocked  the 
doorway,  merely  looked  suspiciously  out. 

"  We're  a  camping  party,  Mr.  —  Mr.  —  " 

"  Lindquist's  my  name."  His  voice  was 
thin  and  peevish,  a  fit  voice  for  such  a  thin, 
small  man. 

"  —  Mr.  Lindquist,  and  we  seem  to  have 
lost  our  way.  Can  you  take  us  in  and  give  us 
a  little  something  to  eat  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  don't  know's  I  could.  How 
many  is  there  of  you  ? " 

"  Four." 

"  You  say  you're  campers  ?  " 

"  That's  what  we  are." 

"  Is  your  tent  near  by  ?  " 

"  Blest  if  we  know.  If  we  did,  we  shouldn't 
be  here." 

It  was  plain  to  the  three  of  them,  standing 
back  in  the  dark,  that  Beveridge,  for  reasons 
of  his  own,  was  moving  very  cautiously,  and 
equally  plain  that  the  little  man  had  some 
reason  for  being  cautious  too.  It  was  hard  to 
think  that  any  honest  farmer,  living  so  lonely 
a  life,  would  be  so  downright  inhospitable. 

"And  you  say  you  want  something  to 
eat?" 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  271 

"  Well,  now,"  —  there  was  no  trace  of  im 
patience  in  the  special  agent's  voice,  —  "  that's 
just  as  you  like.  -We  don't  want  to  impose 
on  you ;  and  of  course  we're  more  than  willing 
to  pay  for  what  we  get." 

"  Well,  I  dunno.  I  s'pose  you  might 
come  in.  Maybe  we've  got  a  little  bread  and 
milk." 

The  kitchen  was  not  a  large  room.  The 
floor  was  bare,  as  were  the  walls,  saving  a  few 
county-fair  advertisements  in  the  form  of 
colored  lithographs.  A  thin,  colorless,  dull- 
eyed  little  woman  was  seated  beside  a  pine 
table,  sewing  by  the  light  of  a  kerosene  lamp. 
The  third  member  of  the  family,  a  boy  of 
fourteen,  did  not  appear  until  a  moment  later. 
When  the  sound  of  the  opening  door  reached 
his  ears,  he  was  lying  flat  on  his  bed,  chin 
propped  on  hands,  feverishly  boring  through  a 
small  volume  in  a  flashy  paper  binding. 

Beveridge,  as  they  all  found  seats,  was  tak 
ing  in  the  farmer,  noting  his  shifting  eyes,  and 
his  clothes,  which  were  nothing  more  than  a 
suit  of  torn  overalls. 

"  Diana,"  said  Lindquist,  "  you  might  give 
these  young  men  some  bread  and  milk." 


272  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

His  wife  laid  aside  her  sewing  without  a  word, 
and  went  to  the  pantry. 

"  Now,"  began  Beveridge,  "  I  suppose  we 
ought  to  find  out  where  we  are." 

"  What's  that  ?  " 

"  Where  are  we,  Mr.  Lindquist  ?  What's 
the  nearest  town  ?  " 

"  The  nearest  town,  you  said  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Why,  Ramsey,  I  guess,  or  —  " 

"Or— what?" 

"  Or  —  Spencer's  place." 

"That's  what  I  was  afraid  of."  Beveridge 
turned  to  his  companions,  adding,  "You  see, 
we've  got  back  near  the  lake." 

At  the  sound  of  strange  voices,  the  boy 
came  down  the  stairs  and  stood  in  a  corner, 
gazing  at  the  strangers,  and  holding  his  book 
behind  him. 

"  How  far  off  is  the  Lake,  Mr.  Lindquist  ?  " 

"  How  —  what's  that  you  say  ?  " 

"  How  far  off  is  the  Lake  ?  " 

"  What  Lake  ?  " 

"  Lake  Huron,  of  course." 

"  Lake  Huron  ?  —  Oh,  twenty,  —  twenty- 
two  mile." 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  273 

"  That's  another  story  !  "  exclaimed  Wilson. 
But  Beveridge,  evidently  fearing  his  assistant's 
tongue,  gave  him  a  look  that  quieted  him. 
The  faces  of  the  four  travellers  all  showed 
relief. 

The  bread  and  milk  were  ready  now,  and 
they  fell  to,  joking  and  laughing  as  heartily  as 
if  their  only  care  had  been  a  camp  outfit  some 
where  in  the  woods ;  but  all  the  time  the  three 
were  watching  Beveridge,  awaiting  his  next 
move.  It  came,  finally,  when  the  last  crumb 
of  bread  had  disappeared  and  the  plates  had 
been  pushed  back. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Lindquist,"  said  Beveridge,  "  it's 
getting  on  pretty  late  in  the  evening,  and  we're 
tired.  Can't  you  put  us  up  for  the  night  ? 
Not  in  the  house  —  I'd  hardly  ask  that  —  but 
out  in  the  barn,  say  ? "  As  he  spoke  he  laid 
a  two-dollar  bill  on  the  table  and  pushed  it  over 
close  to  the  farmer's  hand. 

"  Well,  I  dunno."  For  a  moment  the  bill 
lay  there  between  their  two  hands,  then  Lind- 
quist's  nervous  fingers  slowly  closed  over  it. 
"  I  suppose  you  could  sleep  out  there." 

"That's  first-rate.  We'll  go  right  out  if 
you  don't  mind.  You  needn't  bother  about 


274  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

coming.  Just  let  your  boy  there  bring  a  lantern 
and  show  us  where  to  go." 

Lindquist  did  not  take  to  this.  "  Axel,"  he 
said,  "  you  go  up  to  bed.  Mind,  now ! " 
Then  he  lighted  the  lantern  and  led  the  way 
to  the  barn.  When  he  had  left  them,  tumbled 
about  on  the  fragrant  hay,  Smiley  spoke  up. 
"Well,  Beveridge,  what  next?" 

"  Didn't  he  lock  the  door  just  then  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Harper,  "I'm  sure  I  heard  it. 
I'll  go  and  see." 

Slowly  he  descended,  and  felt  his  way  across 
the  floor,  returning  with  the  report  that  the 
door  was  fast. 

"  Now,  boys,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Beveridge. 
"We'll  take  a  little  rest.  It's  all  right  as  long 
as  one  of  us  is  awake.  Before  the  night's  over 
we've  got  to  get  hold  of  that  boy,  but  we 
won't  make  a  disturbance  yet." 

"  Oh,"  cried  Dick,  a  flood  of  light  breaking 
in  on  his  understanding,  "  it's  the  boy  you're 
after." 

"  Yes,  it's  the  boy,  of  course.  I've  had  to 
sit  down  a  good  many  times  in  my  life  and 
thank  the  Lord  for  my  luck,  but  this  beats 
it  all." 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  275 

"Are  you  sure,  though,  that  they  went 
through  here  ? " 

"  Am  I  sure  ?  Could  you  look  at  the  old 
man  and  ask  me  that  ?  What  I'd  like  to  know 
is  how  far  off  they  are  just  now." 

"  Lindquist  doesn't  look  as  if  he'd  tell." 

"  Oh,  no  ;  he  won't  tell." 

"  Would  it  do  any  good  to  make  him  ?  " 

"  Put  on  a  little  pressure,  you  mean  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  I  don't  think  so.  He'd  lie  to  me,  and  we 
wouldn't  have  any  way  of  knowing  the  differ 
ence.  The  boy  is  our  game." 

"  Why  not  get  him  now  ?  We  could  break 
out  of  here  easy  enough." 

"  No,  Smiley,  you're  a  little  off  the  track 
there.  He  must  tell  us  on  the  sly.  Don't 
you  see,  he's  a  good  deal  more  afraid  of  his 
father  than  he  is  of  us.  If  we  aren't  careful, 
we'll  have  him  lying  too." 

"  Have  you  thought  of  the  old  lady  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  I'm  doubtful  there.  She  is  afraid 
of  him  too.  It's  more  than  likely  that  she  was 
kept  pretty  much  out  of  the  way.  Anyhow,  her 
ideas  would  be  confused." 

"  But     sitting     up    here    in    the     haymow 


276  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

isn't  going  to  bring  us  any  nearer  to  the 
boy." 

"  Isn't  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  how." 

"  Did  you  notice  the  book  he  was  read- 
ing?" 

"  No,  what  book  ?     I  didn't  see  any  book." 

"  I  guess  maybe  you  were  right.  Smiley, 
about  your  eyes  being  trained  for  sea  work. 
Now,  I'll  tell  you  what.  This  little  rest 
may  be  the  only  one  we're  entitled  to  for 
a  day  or  so,  and  I  wish  you  fellows  would  curl 
right  up  and  go  to  sleep.  I'm  going  to  stay 
awake  for  a  while.  Harper,  over  there,  is  the 
only  sensible  one  in  the  lot.  He's  been  asleep 
for  ten  minutes." 

"  No,  he  ain't,"  drawled  a  sleepy  voice. 

"  I  can't  get  comfortable,"  growled  Wilson. 
"  How  is  a  man  going  to  sleep  with  this  hay 
sticking  into  your  ears  and  tickling  you  ? " 

"  Next  time  I  take  you  out,  Bert,"  said 
Beveridge,  "  I'll  bring  along  a  pneumatic 
mattress  and  a  portable  bath-tub  and  a  Pullman 
nigger  to  carry  your  things." 

"  That's  all  right,  Bill.  Wait  till  you  try  it 
yourself.  There  are  spiders  in  the  hay,  mill- 


THE   GINGHAM   DRESS  277 

ions  of  'em,  —  and  if  there's  anything  I  hate, 
it's  spiders." 

"  Here,"  said  Harper,  "  take  some  o'  my 
pillow.  I  ain't  having  no  difficulty."  He 
threw  over  a  roll  of  cloth,  which  Wilson,  after 
some  feeling  about,  found. 

"  Hold  on,  Harper,  this  isn't  your  coat  ?  " 

"  No,  it's  part  of  a  bundle  of  rags  I  found 
here." 

"  What's  that !  "  Beveridge  exclaimed.  "  A 
bundle  of  rags  ?  " 

"  Feels  like  part  of  an  old  dress,"  said 
Wilson. 

"Give  it  here,  Bert.  I'll  take  what  you've 
got  too,  Harper."  With  the  cloth  under  his 
arm  Beveridge  found  the  ladder  and  made  his 
way  to  the  floor  below.  Then  he  lighted  a 
match. 

The  others  crawled  to  the  edge  of  the  mow 
and  looked  down  into  the  cavernous,  dimly 
lighted  space. 

"  Look  out  you  don't  set  us  afire,  Bill." 

"  Come  down  here,  Smiley,  and  see  what  you 
make  of  this." 

It  was  not  necessary  to  summon  Dick  twice. 
He  swung  off,  hung  an  instant  by  his  hands, 


278  THE    MERRT  JNNE 

dropped  to  the  floor,  and  bent  with  the  special 
agent  over  what  seemed  to  be  the  waist  and 
skirt  of  a  gingham  dress.  The  examination 
grew  so  interesting  that  Harper  and  Wilson 
came  down  the  ladder  and  peered  over  Dick's 
shoulders. 

"  You  see,"  said  Beveridge,  — "  here,  wait 
till  I  light  another  match.  Take  this  box, 
Bert,  will  you,  and  keep  the  light  going  ?  You 
see,  it  isn't  an  old  dress  at  all.  It's  rather 
new,  in  fact.  Mrs.  Lindquist  would  never 
have  thrown  it  away  —  never  in  the  world. 
Now  what  in  the  devil  —  what's  that,  Smiley  ? " 

"  I  didn't  say  anything.  I  was  just  think- 
ing-" 

"Well— what?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  could  swear  to  it,  but 
—  you  see,  you  can't  tell  the  color  very  well  in 
this  light." 

"  Oh,  it's  blue,  plain  enough." 

"You're  sure?" 

"  Perfectly." 

"  Looks  nearer  green  to  me.  But  if  it's 
blue,  I've  seen  it  before." 

"Where?" 

"  The  day  I  was  at  Spencer's.     There  was  a 


an 


THE   GINGHAM    DRESS  279 

girl  there,  the  old  man's  sister-in-law,  and 
she  wore  this  dress." 

"  Are  you  perfectly  sure,  Smiley  ?  " 

"Well  —  dresses  aren't  in  my  line,  but  — 
yes,  I'm  sure.  I  noticed  it  because  her  eyes 
were  blue  too  —  and  there  was  this  white  figure 
in  it.  Her  name  is  Estelle.  She  waited  on 
table,  and  —  " 

"  Go  on  —  don't  stop." 

"  Wait  up,"  said  Wilson.  "  If  you've  got 
it  identified,  I'm  going  to  quit  burning  up  these 
matches.  There  are  only  about  half  a  dozen 
left." 

"  All  right.  Put  it  out."  And  they  talked 
on  in  the  dark,  seated,  Dick  and  Beveridge  on 
the  tongue  of  a  hay-wagon,  Wilson  on  an  in 
verted  bucket,  Harper  on  the  floor. 

"  Why,  she  waited  on  table ;  and  then 
McGlory  disappeared  and  I  had  to  go  after 
him,  and  I  found  him  talking  to  her  — " 

"Hold  on!"  Beveridge  broke  in.  "You 
say  you  found  her  and  McGlory  together  ? " 

"  Yes.  I  guess  we're  thinking  of  the  same 
thing.  From  the  way  they  both  acted,  I  rather 
guess  it's  an  understood  thing.  It  wasn't  as 
if  he  had  met  her  there  by  chance,  not  a  bit 


280  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

of  it.  And  I've  been  thinking  since,  it  seems 
more  than  likely  that  she  would  go  wher 
ever  he  went." 

"  That's  right !  "  Beveridge  exclaimed. 
"  I'm  sure  of  it.  I  know  a  little  some 
thing  about  it  myself." 

"  You  do  ? " 

"  Yes.  This  McGlory  has  left  a  wife  behind 
him  in  Chicago." 

"  Madge,  you  mean  ? " 

"Yes.  The  main  reason  he  took  up  the 
offer  to  go  out  with  you,  Smiley,  was  so 
he  could  get  up  here  and  see  this  —  what's 
her  name  ?  —  Estelle." 

"  So  there  is  more  than  a  fighting  chance 
that  where  she  is  you'll  find  him." 

"  Exactly." 

"  And  that  means  that  he  has  been  here 
to-day." 

"  Right  again." 

"  Then  who  sailed  the  schooner  for  Can 
ada  ?  " 

Harper,  leaning  forward  in  the  dark  and 
straining  to  catch  every  syllable  of  the  low- 
pitched  conversation,  here  gave  a  low  gasp 
of  sheer  excitement.  There  had  been  mo- 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  281 

ments  —  hours,  even  —  during  the  day  when 
the  object  of  this  desperate  chase  had  seemed 
a  far-off,  imaginary  thing  beside  the  real  dis 
comforts  of  the  tramp  through  the  pines.  But 
now,  in  this  sombre  place,  they  were  plunged 
into  the  mystery  of  the  flight,  and  he  had 
been  the  unwitting  means  of  deepening  the 
mystery. 

"  That  sort  of  mixes  us  up,  Beveridge,"  said 
Smiley. 

"  Never  mind."  Beveridge's  voice  was 
exultant.  "  We're  hot  on  the  trail  now. 
This  taking  to  the  woods  is  about  the  neat 
est  thing  I  ever  did." 

"You're  right  there,  Bill,"  Wilson  chimed 
in. 

Until  now  Dick  had  supposed  that  the 
land  chase  had  been  entirely  his  own  notion, 
but  he  said  nothing. 

"  Look  here,  Bill,"  —  it  was  Wilson  break 
ing  the  silence, — "there  isn't  any  use  of 
our  trying  to  sleep  to-night.  Let's  break  out 
and  run  this  thing  down." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  know  your  way  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  ?  " 

"  Make  'em  show  us." 


282  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Suppose  you  can't  make  them  ?  " 

"  I  know  —  you're  still  thinking  about  that 
boy.  But  we  are  no  nearer  him  than  we  were 
an  hour  ago." 

"  Listen  a  minute  !  " 

They  sat  motionless.  There  was  no  sound  ; 
nothing  but  the  heavy  stillness  of  the 
night. 

Wilson  whispered,  "  Think  you  heard 
something  ? " 

"  S-sh  !  " 

A  key  turned  softly  in  the  lock.  Then 
the  door  opened  a  little  way,  and  against 
the  sky  they  could  see  a  head.  Wilson  drew 
his  revolver.  Beveridge  heard  the  hammer 
click,  and  said  quietly,  "  Don't  be  a  fool, 
Bert.  Put  that  thing  back  in  your  pocket." 

"  Are  you's  in  there  ? "  came  a  voice  from 
the  door. 

"Yes.     Come  along." 

The  door  opened  wider  to  admit  the  owner 
of  the  voice,  then  closed.  A  moment  later 
a  lantern  was  lighted  and  held  up  before 
the  grinning,  excited  face  of  the  farmer's 
son. 

"  Come  on,  Alex.     What  do  you  want  ?  " 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  283 

The  boy  slowly  approached  until  he  stood 
before  them ;  then  he  set  the  lantern  on  the 
floor,  where  it  cast  long  shadows. 

"  What  is  it,  my  boy  ?  " 

Axel  looked  knowingly  at  them.  "  Say," 
he  whispered,  "  I  know  what  you's  are. 
You're  detectives." 

"  Oh,  we  are,  are  we  ?  What  makes  you 
think  that?" 

"  You're  detectives.     I  know." 

"  Sit  down,  and  talk  it  over.  Do  you 
smoke  ? " 

"  Can  I  smoke  ?  Well,  I  should  say  I  can. 
You  just  watch  me."  He  accepted  a  cigar,  his 
first,  and  lighted  it.  "  Don't  let  on  to  Pa,  will 
you?  He'd  give  me  —  "  Unable  to  call  up 
a  strong  enough  word,  the  boy  concluded  with 
a  grin. 

"  That's  all  right.  We  know  how  it  is  our 
selves.  Your  father  has  enough  to  worry  him 
just  about  now,  anyhow.  Didn't  he  have  but 
the  one  suit  of  clothes  ?  " 

"  Well,  there  was  his  old  everyday  suit,  but 
that  got  tore  so  bad  Ma  said  she  couldn't  mend 
it,  and  there  wasn't  only  his  Sunday  suit  and 
his  work  clothes  left." 


284  THE  MERRT 

"  You  don't  mean  that  he  had  to  fight  with 
those  fellows  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,  —  that  was  a  long  time  ago.  Say, 
this  cigar  is  the  real  thing." 

"  It  ought  to  be  good.  It's  a  fifteen-cent- 
straight." 

"  Tou  don't  say  so  ! " 

"  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  Alex." 

"  My  name's  Axel." 

"  I'll  tell  you  one  thing.  Your  father  has 
made  a  bad  mistake  in  allowing  himself  to  get 
mixed  up  with  these  people.  He  is  with  the 
wrong  crowd.  I'm  the  only  one  that  could 
help  him  out." 

The  boy  began  to  be  frightened.  "Oh,  he 
ain't  mixed  up  in  it !  " 

"He  isn't?" 

"  No.     He  never  seen  'em  before." 

"What  does  he  want  to  act  this  way  for, 
then  ? " 

"Well,  you  see  —  " 

"  Now  look  here,  my  boy.  The  sooner  we 
understand  each  other,  the  better.  Your  father 
has  got  himself  into  a  dangerous  situation. 
He  can't  deceive  me.  I  know  all  about  it. 
Does  he  think  he  could  keep  me  in  here  any 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  285 

longer  than  I  want  to  stay  by  locking  the  door  ? 
I'm  half  minded  to  arrest  him  for  this.  He 
can't  do  that  sort  o'  thing  to  me ! " 

Axel  was  downright  frightened  now.  He 
held  his  cigar  so  long  that  it  went  out.  Wilson 
struck  a  match,  and  lighted  it  for  him. 

"  I  suppose  you  would  like  me  to  believe 
that  he  was  forced  to  give  up  his  clothes  ? " 

"  Oh,  he  was !  The  fellow  with  the  black 
hair  —  " 

"  McGlory  ? " 

"  Seems  to  me  they  called  him  Joe." 

"  That's  the  same  man.     Go  on." 

"  Why,  he  pulled  a  gun,  and  marched  Pa 
out  here  to  the  barn.  Ma  ran  upstairs  cry 
ing.  And  the  lady,  she  was  crying,  too. 
And  the  dark  fellow,  he  made  the  lady  climb 
up  where  you  was,  on  the  hay  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Beveridge  interrupted,  indi 
cating  the  dress. 

"  And  then  he  held  the  gun  while  Pa  took 
off  his  Sunday  suit  that  he'd  put  on  because  he 
thought  they  was  going  to  be  visitors,  and  he 
threw  it  up  to  the  lady,  and  she  put  it  on. 
One  of  the  suspenders  was  busted,  and  she 
didn't  know  how  it  worked,  and  she  cried,  and 


286  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

then  Pa  had  to  holler  up  how  he'd  fixed  it  with 
a  string  and  you  twisted  the  string  around  twice 
and  then  tied  it.  And  then  the  dark  fellow,  he 
made  me  run  in  and  get  Pa  his  overhauls." 

"  So  they  changed  clothes  right  here,  eh  ? " 

"Yes,  and  the  lady  cried,  and  when  she'd 
got  all  dressed  in  Pa's  clothes,  why,  she  just 
said  she  wouldn't  come  down.  And  Joe,  he 
said  she  would,  or  he'd  know  the  reason  why. 
Then  the  others  laughed  some  —  " 

"  The  others  !  " 

"  Yes,  and  they  —  " 

"  Hold  on  !  How  many  were  there  in  this 
party  ? " 

"  Why,  three  or  four,  counting  in  the  lady." 

"  Three  or  four  !     Don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  didn't  think  about  count 
ing  'em  then.  What  was  I  saying  ?  " 

"You  said  the  others  laughed." 

"  Oh,  yes.  Not  very  much,  you  know,  — 
just  a  little.  Then  the  boss,  he  said  —  " 

"  What  sort  of  a  looking  man  was  this 
boss  ? " 

"  I  dunno." 

"  Didn't  you  see  him  ?  " 

"Oh,  well,  I  —  " 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  287 

"  What  was  it  he  said  this  time  ?  " 

"  Oh,  —  he  said  something  to  Joe  about 
not  getting  excited.  I  guess  he  thought  he 
was  kind  o'  mean  to  the  lady.  Anyhow,  she 
come  down  after  a  little  and  kind  o'  stood 
around  behind  things.  She  was  frightened 
some,  I  guess.  And  then  they  all  went 
off." 

"  Which  way  ? " 

"  I  dunno.  They  told  us  we  hadn't  better 
watch  'em,  and  so  I  thought  maybe  I 
wouldn't." 

"  Was  that  the  last  you  saw  of  them  ? " 

"Well  — not  quite." 

"  Not  quite  !     What  else  ?  " 

"  Before  they'd  gone  very  far,  the  boss  came 
back." 

"  Oh,  he  did  ?  " 

"  And  he  told  Pa  he  guessed  Joe  was  a  little 
excited,  and  they  hadn't  meant  to  be  hard  on 
him.  And  so  he  gave  Pa  a  little  money  for 
his  trouble." 

"  I  thought  you  said  your  father  wasn't 
mixed  up  with  them." 

"  He  ain't.     Not  a  bit." 

"  But  you  say  he  took  their  money  ?  " 


288  THE   MERRT  JNNE 

"  What  else  could  he  do  ?  They  ain't  the 
sort  o'  men  you'd  want  to  argue  with." 

"  There  is  something  in  that.  But  why  did 
he  try  to  lock  us  in  here  ? " 

"  I  dunno." 

"  Oh,  you  don't." 

"  No,  but  —  I'll  tell  you.     Pa's  rattled." 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder." 

"  He  come  up  to  my  room  just  after  he'd 
been  out  here  with  you,  and  says  if  I  ever  said 
a  word  about  it,  it  would  land  the  whole  family 
in  state's  prison.  That  ain't  so,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  I'm  not  prepared  to  say." 

The  cigar  was  out  again.  "  Oh,  say,  now,  it 
wasn't  his  fault.  He  didn't  do  nothing  but 
what  they  made  him  do." 

"  Of  course,  the  fact  that  he  helped  them 
under  compulsion  might  be  considered  in  a 
court  of  law,  but  I'm  not  prepared  to  say  that 
it  mightn't  go  hard  with  you  all.  I'll  do  what 
I  can  to  get  you  out  of  it,  but  it's  a  bad  scrape. 
What  direction  is  Hewittson  from  here  ?  " 

"  Off  that  way.  There's  a  road  'most  all 
the  way." 

"  That's  first-rate.  I  want  you  to  go  with 
us." 


THE    GINGHAM    DRESS  289 

"  When  ? " 

"Now." 

"Oh,  Pa  — he  wouldn't  let  me  —  " 

"  But  I  tell  you  to  come." 

"  Would  it  help  us  any  in  getting  off  ? " 

"  I  might  be  able  to  make  it  easier  if  you 
really  give  me  valuable  assistance." 

"  We'll  have  to  get  away  pretty  quiet." 

"  Very  well."  Beveridge  was  rolling  up  the 
blue  dress  into  a  small  bundle.  "All  ready, 
Bert— Smiley?" 

"  All  right  here." 

"  Put  out  your  light,  Axel." 

They  stepped  cautiously  outside,  and  the 
boy  locked  the  door  behind  them.  "  Hold 
on,"  he  whispered;  "  don't  go  around  that  way. 
Pa  ain't  asleep,  never  in  the  world  !  " 

"  Which  way  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"Here — after  me  —  through  the  cow-yard." 

They  slipped  around  behind  the  barn,  made 
a  short  detour  through  the  edge  of  the  forest, 
and  reached  the  road  beyond  the  house. 

"  Does  this  road  run  both  ways,  Axel  ? " 
Beveridge  asked. 

"  Yes,  from  Hewittson  to  Ramsey." 

"  Do   you    hear    that,   Smiley  ?      We    must 


290  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

have  been  within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  it 
most  of  the  way." 

"  Never  mind,  we'll  make  better  time  now, 
anyhow." 

They  pushed  on,  indeed,  rapidly  for  half  a 
mile,  guided  by  the  lantern,  which  Axel  had 
relighted.  Then  the  boy,  overcome  by  the 
tobacco,  had  to  be  left,  miserably  sick,  in  a 
heap  by  the  roadside.  Beveridge  snatched  the 
lantern  from  his  heedless  fingers,  thrust  a  bill 
into  his  pocket  by  way  of  payment,  and  the 
party  pushed  on. 


CHAPTER   XI 

THURSDAY   NIGHT  — VAN   DEELEN'S 
BRIDGE 


CHAPTER   XI 

THURSDAY   NIGHT  — VAN   DEELEN'S   BRIDGE 

THE  stars  were  shining  down  on  the 
stream  that  passed  sluggishly  under 
Van  Deelen's  bridge,  but  they  found  no  an 
swering  twinkle  there.  A  gloomy  stream  it 
was,  winding  a  sort  of  way  through  the  little 
farm,  coming  from  —  somewhere,  off  in  the 
pines  ;  going  to  —  somewhere,  off  in  the  pines  ; 
brown  by  day,  black  by  night;  the  only 
silent  thing  in  the  breathing,  crackling  for 
est.  It  seemed  to  come  from  the  north, 
gliding  out  from  under  the  green-black  canopy 
with  a  little  stumble  of  white  foam,  as  if 
ashamed  in  the  light  of  the  clearing.  Then, 
sullen  as  ever,  it  settled  back,  slipped  under 
the  bridge  —  where  the  road  from  Lindquist's 
swung  sharply  down  —  with  never  a  swirl,  and 
gave  itself  up  to  the  pines  and  hemlocks  that 
bent  over.  Behind  the  barn-yard  it  circled 
293 


294  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

westward,  and  paralleled  the  road  for  a  few 
hundred  yards,  as  if  it,  too,  were  bound  for 
Hewittson ;  but  changed  its  mind,  turned 
sharply  south,  and  was  gone.  Whither  ?  The 
muskrats  and  minks  perhaps  could  tell. 

The  clearing,  in  spite  of  the  house  and  barn, 
was  desolate ;  the  pines  were  pressing  irre 
sistibly  in  on  every  side  to  claim  the  land 
Dirck  van  Deelen  had  stolen  from  them. 
The  road,  after  crossing  the  bridge,  lost  itself 
in  the  confused  tracks  between  house  and  barn, 
only  to  reappear  on  the  farther  side  and  plunge 
again  into  the  forest,  —  a  weary,  yellow  road, 
telling  of  miles  of  stump  land  as  well  as  of 
the  fresher  forest. 

It  was  late,  very  late,  but  there  was  a  light 
in  the  house.  A  woman,  in  man's  clothing, 
lay  on  the  parlor  sofa,  too  tired  to  rest.  She 
was  white ;  her  breath  came  hard ;  her  eyes 
were  too  bright.  McGlory  stood  over  her 
with  a  pair  of  scissors  in  his  hand.  He  had 
cut  off  her  long  hair,  and  now  it  lay  curling 
on  the  floor. 

"  Here,  you,"  —  he  was  speaking  to  Van 
Deelen,  —  "  get  a  broom  and  take  that  up.  Be 
quick  about  it.  What  are  you  gawking  at  ?  " 


VAN    DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  295 

Van  Deelen,  slow  of  movement  and  slower 
of  thought,  obeyed. 

"  Now,"  said  McGlory  to  the  woman,  "  come 
along  !  "  And  he  took  her  arm. 

"Oh,  no,  Joe!  I  can't  go!  It  will  kill 
me!" 

"  Cut  that  —  get  up  !  " 

Roche,  who  had  been  eating  in  the  next 
room,  came  in,  looked  at  them,  and  then  hur 
ried  out,  where  the  leader  of  the  party  awaited 
him. 

"  Aren't  they  'most  ready  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  coming  right  along  —  if  it  don't  kill 
her." 

But  when  they  heard  a  step  and  turned,  only 
the  woman  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"  Where's  Joe,  Estelle  ?  " 

"  He  —  he's  coming."  She  staggered. 
Roche  caught  her,  helped  her  down  the  steps, 
and  with  his  arm  about  her  waist  led  her  out 
to  the  road.  "  He  says  to  go  along,  and  he'll 
catch  us."  She  was  plucky,  or  frightened,  for 
she  staggered  along  biting  her  lip. 

This  was  what  McGlory  had  said  to  Van 
Deelen  after  he  had  got  her  to  the  door : 
"Give  me  some  paper  and  a  pen  —  quick!" 


296  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

They  were  promptly  placed  on  the  dining- 
room  table ;  and  he  scrawled  off  a  few  lines, 
folded  the  paper,  and  looked  up  with  a  scowl. 
The  strain  of  the  week  had  not  improved  his 
expression.  "  Give  me  an  envelope ;  I  want 
you  to  mail  this  for  me." 

"  I  haven't  got  one." 

"  The you  haven't !  " 

"Honest — that's  the  truth.  I'd  have  to 
go  to  Hewittson,  anyway.  It'll  be  quicker  for 
you  to  take  —  " 

"  Oh,  shut  up.  I'm  sick  o'  your  voice. 
Here,  take  this."  He  thrust  the  letter  into 
his  pocket  and  counted  out  twenty-five  dollars 
in  bills.  "  This  is  for  you.  And  mind,  noth 
ing  said.  You  don't  know  us  —  never  seen 
four  men  coming  through  here  in  the  night. 
Don't  remember  ever  having  seen  four  men 
come  through.  Understand  ?  " 

Van  Deelen  drew  back  a  step,  and  nodded. 

"  No  mistake  about  this  now.  If  you  say  a 
word,  the  world  ain't  big  enough  to  hide  you." 
His  hand  was  straying  toward  a  significant 
pocket.  "  None  of  your  hemmings  and  haw- 
ings —  if  you're  in  a  hurry  to  get  to  heaven, 
just  give  us  away.  Understand  ?  " 


VAN   DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  297 

Another  nod,  —  all  the  farmer  was  capable 
of;  and  McGlory  was  gone  with  a  bound,  out 
the  door,  on  toward  the  little  group  at  the 
farther  side  of  the  clearing. 

They  heard  his  step  and  his  loud  breath 
ing.  "  What's  this  ?  "  He  had  just  made  out 
Roche's  arm  across  Estelle's  back.  "  What's 
this  ?  "  He  tore  the  arm  away,  whirled  Roche 
around,  and  slapped  his  face  so  hard  that  he 
staggered. 

«By  -     - !  "  gasped  Roche.     "  By !  " 

They  glared  at  each  other ;  Estelle  sobbed. 
"  Try  that  again,  Joe  McGlory  !  Just  try  it ! 
Hit  me  again!  Why,  you  — why,  I'll  break 
your  neck  !  " 

"Tou  will?" 

"  Yes,  I  will.     Just  hit  me  again  !  " 

McGlory  looked  him  over,  decided  to  accept 
the  invitation,  and  plunged  forward.  Roche, 
without  a  moment's  hesitation,  turned  and 
bolted  up  the  road,  —  ran  as  if  the  fiends  were 
on  his  heels.  McGlory  finally  stopped, 
laughed  viciously,  and  hurled  a  curse  after 
him. 

The  third  man  let  them  go ;  he  merely 
took  Estelle's  arm  and  helped  her  along, 


298  THE   MERRT  JNNE 

soothing  her  a  little,  trying  to  calm  the  out 
burst  of  hysteria  that  had  been  threatening 
for  twenty-four  hours.  McGlory  waited  for 
them  in  the  shadow  of  the  woods ;  and  a  little 
farther  on  Roche  fell  in  behind,  muttering 
softly,  and  keeping  well  away  from  McGlory. 

Estelle  could  hardly  stagger  along.  Mc 
Glory  passed  his  arm  through  hers  and 
dragged  her  forward.  Now  she  was  silent, 
now  she  stifled  a  sob,  now  she  begged  pite- 
ously  to  be  left  behind.  "  Let  me  go  back 
to  Van  Deelen's,  Joe  —  please  !  I  can't  go  on." 

"  I  thought  you  was  such  a  walker." 

"  Oh,  but  —  not  so  far  as  this.  Let  me  go 
back  there." 

"  Wouldn't  that  be  smart,  now  !  To  leave 
you  where  you  could  blab  the  whole  thing !  " 

She  tried  to  walk  a  few  steps  farther ;  then 
she  broke  away,  stumbled  to  the  roadside,  and, 
sinking  to  the  ground,  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands. 

Roche  stopped  short  and  stared  at  her. 
The  other  spoke  up :  "  This  won't  do,  Joe. 
There's  no  use  killing  her.  We'll  drop  back 
in  the  woods  and  take  a  rest.  We'll  all  be 
better  for  it." 


VAN   DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  299 

McGlory  sullenly  consented.  He  dragged 
Estelle  off  through  the  undergrowth  to  the 
clearer  ground  under  the  trees,  and  they  all 
stretched  out.  In  five  minutes  Roche  was  the 
only  one  awake  of  the  three  men.  Without 
raising  his  head  he  slipped  over  close  to  Es 
telle  and  rested  his  hand  on  her  shoulder.  She 
rolled  over  with  a  start.  "  S-sh  !  Not  so 
loud,  Estelle." 

"  Oh,  it's  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  You  didn't  think  I'd  forgot,  did 
you,  Estelle  ? " 

"I  —  I  don't  understand." 

"  Don't  you  think  it's  time  to  quit  'em  ? 
What's  the  use  ?  I  guess  you  know  him  now 
for  what  he  is." 

"Yes,  he's  mean  to  me.     But  —  " 

"  Don't  you  see  —  we  can  skip  out  and 
leave  'em  here,  and  go  back  near  the  house 
and  hide.  He  wouldn't  dast  come  back 
after  us.  The  boss  wouldn't  never  let 
him." 

"  Do  you  think  we  could  ?  I'm  afraid.  He 
wouldn't  stop  at  anything." 

"  You  just  leave  it  to  me.  I  can  take  care 
o'  Mm."  ' 


3oo  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

"I  —  I'm  afraid.  He's  so  determined.  And 
I  told  him  I'd  go  with  him." 

"  What  was  he  a-doin*  back  there  in  the 
house  after  he  sent  you  out  ? " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Not  so  loud  —  whisper.  Didn't  you  hear 
him  say  anything  ?  " 

"  He  asked  for  a  pen  and  paper." 

"  Must  'a*  wrote  a  letter.  There  it  is  — 
look  there  —  sticking  out  of  his  pocket.  Wait 
a  minute." 

"  Don't  you  try  to  take  it.  He'll  shoot 
you." 

"  Oh,  damn  him !  I  ain't  afraid  of  two 
Joe  McGlorys.  Lemme  go."  He  crept 
over,  drew  out  the  letter  skilfully,  and  re 
turned.  "  I  don't  like  to  strike  a  match 
here  —  " 

"Oh,  no,  no  — don't!" 

"  Can  you  crawl  off  a  little  ways  —  behind 
them  bushes  ? " 

"  I  guess  so ;  I'll  try."  He  helped  her. 
"S-sh  —  careful." 

Behind  the  bushes  they  felt  safer.  Roche 
lighted  a  match  and  held  up  the  paper.  This 
is  what  they  read  :  — 


VAN    DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  301 

"  Dear  Madge :  There's  a  little  misunder 
standing  up  this  way  and  I  can't  get  back  for 
a  little  while  I  want  some  money  you  put  the 
bills  in  a  envelope  to  generel  dilivry  South 
Bend  Indiana.  Don't  you  try  to  come  to  me 
because  it  ain't  a  very  pleasent  situation  I'll 
tell  you  later  where  to  come  don't  forget  the 
money  and  don't  you  put  my  name  on  it  call 
me  Joe  Murphy.  Burn  this  soon  as  you  read 

«J." 

Neither  saw  the  insolent  brutality  of  this 
letter;  their  thoughts  were  elsewhere.  Estelle 
gazed,  thunderstruck.  Roche  held  the  match 
until  it  burned  his  finger.  As  he  dropped  it 
and  the  paper  to  the  ground,  and  the  dark 
closed  in  again,  one  of  the  sleepers  tossed  and 
mumbled.  Estelle  caught  his  arm. 

"  He  told  me  it  wasn't  so,"  she  whispered. 
"  He  told  me  it  wasn't  so." 

"  Oh,  he's  just  a  common,  everyday  liar. 
Madge  is  his  wife.  Didn't  I  tell  you  so  the 
first  day  I  come  to  Spencer's  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  What  can  we  do  ?  Do 
you  think  we  could  get  away  ? " 

"  Sure  thing." 

"  But  how  ?  " 


302  THE   MERRt   4NNE 

"  We'll  sneak  back  a  ways  and  off  to  one 
side  in  the  woods.  He  can't  come  back  and 
search  the  whole  county  for  us.  Don't  you 
see  ? " 

"  But  wouldn't  they  catch  us  ? "  She 
glanced  toward  the  east,  whence  pursuit  might 
come. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  Just  trust  me.  Come 
on  —  now's  the  time.  Move  cautious  till  we 
get  on  the  road." 

He  helped  her  up,  and  they  stole  away. 
For  a  few  moments  she  was  buoyed  up  by  this 
new  excitement,  but  soon  fell  back  into  the  old 
weariness.  She  clung  to  Roche  until  he  was 
almost  carrying  her.  "  Keep  a-going,"  he 
whispered.  "  I'll  skip  back  to  the  house  and 
pick  up  something  to  eat,  and  then  we'll  take 
to  the  woods.  They  can't  never  catch  me,  I 
tell  you.  /'//  fool  'em." 

They  struggled  along.  Halfway  back  to  the 
farm-house  Estelle  completely  lost  heart.  "  I 
can't  do  it!"  she  moaned.  "Stop  —  let  me 
sit  down." 

"  Not  here,  Estelle  !     Not  in  the  road  !  " 

"  Let  me  down,  I  tell  you  !  " 

"  But  he  may  be  along  any  minute." 


VAN    DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  303 

"  I  don't  care.     Let  me  down." 

"  Look  here,  Estelle,  can't  you  see  how  it 
is  ?  If  he  gets  you,  he'll  half  kill  you.  And 
you'll  have  to  walk  farther  with  him  than  you 
would  with  me." 

She  was  beyond  reason.  She  clung  around 
his  neck,  holding  herself  up  even  while  she 
begged  to  be  let  down.  Her  condition  and 
the  terrible  loneliness  of  the  night  were  un 
nerving  Roche.  "  Come  along,"  he  said 
angrily,  "  or  I'll  make  you  come  !  " 

"  Don't  hurt  me  !  " 

"  By !  Don't  you  say  another  word!  " 

He  jerked  her  roughly  forward,  while  his  wild 
eyes  sought  the  road  behind. 

"  You  said  you'd  be  good  to  me  !  " 

"  Well,  ain't  I  good  to  you  ?  Ain't  I  sav 
ing  your  life,  and  you  haven't  got  the  sense  to 
see  it  ? " 

"Odear!      Don't  —  " 

"  Keep  still,  now  —  come  on  —  Don't  you 
say  any  more." 

Soon  they  reached  the  clearing,  and,  pausing 
for  breath  in  the  shadows,  they  looked  about. 
The  night  was  far  advanced,  but  a  light  showed 
in  an  upper  window  of  the  house.  Over  in 


304  THE    MERRr  ANNE 

the  barn  a  horse  was  thrashing  about  his  stall  ; 
the  noise  was  deafening  after  the  stillness. 
Roche  released  Estelle,  and  to  his  horror  she 
sank  to  the  ground  in  a  faint.  He  spoke  to 
her  —  she  did  not  hear.  He  bent  over  and 
shook  her,  felt  her  wrist  and  her  forehead. 
Then  he  straightened  up  and  looked  back 
along  the  road.  His  breath  came  fast  and 
hard  ;  the  loneliness  was  closing  in  on  his  soul. 
He  shivered,  though  the  air  was  not  cold,  then 
stepped  back,  mopped  the  sudden  sweat  from 
his  face,  looked  down  again  at  the  woman,  — 
even  stirred  her  with  his  foot,  —  then  turned 
and  ran.  Not  down  the  road,  for  the  low 
browed  McGlory  lay  sleeping  there ;  not  to  the 
south,  for  the  stream  barred  the  way  ;  but  skirt 
ing  the  clearing  to  the  northern  edge  and  then 
plunging  into  the  woods,  endlong  and  over- 
thwart,  with  a  thousand  ugly  fancies  hounding 
him,  with  ?,  traitor  in  his  bosom  that  opened 
the  door  for  the  mad  thoughts  freely  to  enter 
and  gnaw  there.  He  tripped  on  a  log,  pitched 
headlong  and  rolled  over,  scrambled  up  with 
bleeding  hands,  and  ran  on  in  an  ecstasy  of  fear. 
And  the  vast  black  forest  shut  in  behind  him 
and  swallowed  him. 


The  black  forest  shut  in  behind  him.'' 


VAN   DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  305 

When  Estelle's  eyes  opened,  she  returned 
from  peace  to  wretchedness.  Yes,  the  trees 
and  the  night  and  the  swollen  feet  were  real. 
She  crawled  toward  the  farm-house ;  some 
thing  within  her  warned  her  not  to  try  to  rise. 
She  lived  months  in  dragging  that  hundred 
yards ;  the  one  goal  of  life  was  the  low  stoop 
and  the  door  under  the  light.  When  she 
reached  it,  —  her  clothes  torn,  the  dust  ground 
into  her  face  and  hands,  —  she  fainted  again, 
and  clung  to  the  steps. 

Dirck  van  Deelen  was  sitting  at  the  window 
with  a  shot-gun  across  his  knees.  He  had 
watched  the  —  he  could  not  see  what  it  was  — 
crawling  to  his  door.  Now  he  looked  out  and 
saw  it  lying  there.  Whatever,  whoever  it  was, 
this  would  not  do ;  so  he  opened  the  door  and 
carried  her  up  to  the  room  where  his  frightened 
wife  was  trying  to  sleep. 

"  We'll  have  to  take  her  in,  Saskia." 
"  What  is  the  matter  ?      Is  she  hurt  ? " 
"  I  don't  know.     I  found  her  on  the  stoop. 
Help  me  examine  her." 

But  they  found  no  mark  of  bullet,  knife, 
or  blunt  instrument.  And  while  the  Dutch 
woman  worked  over  her,  the  man  went  for 


306  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

water.  At  last  she  was  brought  to  a  sort  of 
consciousness,  and,  leaving  his  wife  to  care  for 
her,  Van  Deelen  returned  to  his  window  and 
his  gun. 

Roche  and  Estelle  had  not  been  gone  an 
hour  when  McGlory,  haunted  by  the  fear  of 
pursuit,  awoke.  He  stretched  himself,  sat  up, 
and  looked  over  to  the  spot  where  Estelle  had 
been  lying  when  he  fell  asleep.  At  first  he 
thought  he  saw  her,  a  darker  shadow,  but  on 
rising  and  walking  over  he  found  no  sign  of 
her.  He  looked  about,  and  called.  Roche, 
too,  was  not  in  sight.  He  hesitated,  not  yet 
fully  awake,  then  turned  back  and  woke  his 
companion. 

"  Well,  what's  the  matter  ? " 

"  They're  gone." 

"Who's  gone?" 

"  Roche  and  Estelle." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  Have  you  looked 
around  ? " 

"  Come  over  here." 

They  prowled  behind  the  trees,  parted  the 
bushes  here  and  there,  called  as  loud  as  they 
dared,  lighted  matches,  and  examined  the 
ground.  Finally  McGlory  broke  out  with 


VAN   DEELEN'S   BRIDGE  307 

an  oath  :  "  The  little  fool !      So  she  thinks  she 
can  serve  me  this  way,  eh  ? " 

"  You  think  they've  skipped  out  ?  " 
"  Think  ?     Do  I  think  it  ?     What  do  I  want 
to  think  for?      Didn't   I   see   him    a-hugging 
her?" 

"He  was  just  helping  her  then." 
"  Oh,  just  helping  her,  was  he  ?  " 
"  Well,  what  you  going  to  do  about  it  ? " 
"What'm  I  going  to  do?"      McGlory  was 
lashing  his  anger.     His  voice  swelled  until  he 
was  roaring  out  the  words  :    "  What'm  I  going 
to  do  ?      I'm  going  to  run   that   Pete   Roche 
down  if  I  have  to  go  to  hell  for  him !     I'm 

• 

going  to  —  " 

"  Drop  your  voice,  Joe.  I  can  hear  you. 
How're  you  going  to  find  him  ? " 

"  Who  you  telling  to  shut  up  ? " 

"  Hold  on,  now.  None  o'  that  talk  to 
me!" 

"  Oh,  you  think  you  can  boss  me,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Think  ?  I  know  it.  Don't  waste  your 
breath  trying  to  bluff  me.  I  asked  you  how 
you're  going  to  find  him." 

"  How'm  I  going  to  —  how'm  I  —  why, 
I'll  break  his  head  —  I'll  — " 


3o8  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Don't  work  yourself  up.  It  won't  help 
you  any." 

"  You  think  you  can  talk  like  that  to  me  ? 
If  you  ain't  careful,  I'll  break  your  head. 
I'll  —  " 

"  How  are  you  going  to  find  him  ?  " 

"  You  say  another  word,  and  I'll  knock  your 
teeth  down  your  throat." 

"  I've  got  my  hand  in  my  pocket,  Joe,  and 
I've  got  a  loaded  gun  in  my  hand,  and  if  you 
threaten  me  again,  I'll  blow  a  hole  through 
you.  I've  half  a  mind  to  do  it  anyway.  A 
fool  like  you  has  no  business  getting  into  a 
scrape  if  he  can't  keep  his  head.  I'd  a  heap 
rather  kill  you  than  get  caught  through  your 
fool  noise.  The  sooner  you  understand  me, 
the  better  for  you.  Now  tell  me  how  you're 
going  to  find  out  which  way  to  take." 

"  How  —  "  McGlory  was  not  a  coward,  but 
he  could  not  face  down  the  seasoned  courage  of 
the  man  before  him.  "  Why  —  that's  a  cinch. 
Ain't  he  headed  the  same  way  we  are  ?  " 

"  Now,  Joe,  hold  on.  Don't  be  a  bigger 
fool  than  you  can  help.  You  don't  really 
think  he'd  take  her  right  along  over  this  road, 
do  you  ? " 


VAN   DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  309 

"Why  — dam' it!" 

"  It's  no  good  talking  to  you  if  you  can't 
quiet  down.  You  want  to  kill  Roche,  and  you're 
right.  I  want  him  killed,  too.  The  longer 
he's  alive,  the  more  danger  for  us.  But  if  you 
go  at  him  this  way,  he  may  kill  you." 

"  Him  !     Kill  me  !     Why  —  " 

"  I  mean  it.  He's  desperate,  too.  You 
can't  be  too  sure  that  he'll  always  run  like  he 
did  to-night.  He's  got  Estelle  to  look  out 
for,  too.  Now,  it's  plain  that  he  hasn't  gone 
down  the  road,  because,  look  here, —  she  isn't 
good  for  more  than  a  mile  an  hour,  and  he'd 
have  sense  enough  to  know  we'd  catch  him." 

"  Where  is  he  gone,  then  ?  " 

"  Not  very  far  —  we  know  that  much. 
Likely  they're  back  here  in  the  woods.  Or 
maybe  they  went  back  to  Van  Deelen's." 

"  They'd  never  go  there." 

"  They  might  have  to.  I  guess  you  don't 
know  much  about  women,  Joe." 

"  I  reckon  I  know  more'n's  good  for  me." 

"  Then  you  ought  to  see  she's  pretty  near 
done  for." 

"  Estelle  ?     She's  bluffing." 

"  No,  she  isn't.     Not  a  bit  of  it.     When  a 


310 


THE   MERRY  ANNE 


woman's  worked  up  and  tired  out  at  the  same 
time,  something's  likely  to  break.  You  were  a 
fool  to  bring  her,  anyhow.  I  don't  know  why 
I  let  you." 

"  You  !     You  let  me  !  " 

"You  said  so  much  about  her  being  strong. 
Why,  she's  a  child." 

"  Look  here,  you've  said  some  things  to 
night  that  I  don't  like." 

"  Oh,  have  I  ?  But  this  isn't  getting  us 
along  any.  The  first  thing  is  to  look  around 
here  a  little  more.  There  are  any  number  of 
ways  they  might  have  taken  without  going 
down  the  road." 

Even  McGlory  could  see  the  reason  in 
this  suggestion.  They  lighted  matches  and 
prowled  about,  peering  behind  trees  and 
bushes,  looking  for  broken  or  bent  twigs,  for 
any  indication  of  the  passage  of  a  human  be 
ing.  But  the  heavy  growth  of  trees  shut  out 
what  light  there  was  overhead,  and  neither  was 
skilful  enough  to  direct  his  search  well. 

"  Find  anything,  Joe  ?  " 

"  Not  a  thing.  When  it  comes  to  sneaking 
off,  Roche  has  head  enough.  It's  the  only 
thing  he's  good  for." 


VAN   DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  311 

"  The  more  I  think  of  it,  Joe,  the  more  I 
believe  they've  gone  to  the  house." 

"You're  off  there." 

"  No,  I'm  not.  Listen  a  minute.  Suppos 
ing  they  started  off  in  the  woods  and  tried  to 
dodge  the  house.  Pretty  soon  Estelle  gives 
out  —  surer  than  New  Year's.  And  it  would 
be  pretty  soon,  too,  because  the  excitement 
wouldn't  keep  her  up  long.  Now  what  is 
Roche  going  to  do  ?  He  isn't  the  man  to  face 
out  a  bad  situation  like  that  —  never  in  this 
world.  He'd  do  one  of  two  things  —  he  would 
skip  out  and  leave  her,  or  he  would  get  her  to 
the  house.  If  he  skipped,  there  isn't  one 
chance  in  a  thousand  of  our  rinding  either  of 
them.  If  he  took  her  to  the  house,  we  can  get 
one  or  both.  We  can't  stay  around  here 
much  longer.  We'd  better  try  the  house,  and 
if  they  aren't  there,  or  anywhere  about  the  place, 
we'll  go  on  toward  Hewittson." 

"  You'll  have  to  go  without  me,  then." 

"  You  think  so  ?  " 

"  I  don't  leave  this  place  till  I  see  Roche 
curled  up  stiff."  This  was  said  as  quietly  as 
McGlory  could  say  anything,  but  it  was  con 
vincing.  The  other  looked  keenly  at  him. 


3i2  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

Suddenly  McGlory,  feeling  in  his  pockets, 
muttered  a  curse  and  started  back  toward  the 
spot  where  they  had  slept. 

"  What's  up  ?     Lost  something  ?  " 

"None  of  your  business!"  McGlory  was 
searching  the  ground  feverishly. 

"  If  you  told  me  what  it  was,  maybe  I  could 
help  you." 

No  answer.  McGlory's  temper  was  rising 
again.  Finding  nothing  where  he  had  lain,  he 
began  thrashing  about  the  bushes. 

"  Unless  it's  something  important,  Joe, 
you're  wasting  a  lot  of  time." 

"  Well,  say  —  you  —  you  ain't  seen  a  paper 
—  or  any  thing, -have  you  ?  " 

"A  letter?" 

"  Not  exactly.     It  wasn't  in  an  envelope." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  this,  maybe."  With  a 
lighted  match  in  one  hand,  he  drew  a  folded 
paper  from  his  pocket  and  started  to  open  it. 
McGlory  sprang  forward,  recognized  it,  and 
tried  to  snatch  it  away. 

"  It  ain't  necessary  to  read  that.  It's  private 
business." 

"  I  have  read  it." 

"  You  have  read  it !  You've  been  prying 
into  my  affairs,  have  you  ?  " 


VAN   DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  313 

"  Not  at  all.  I  found  this  on  the  ground 
and  read  it.  You  must  have  written  it  back 
there  when  you  kept  us  waiting.  You  had  no 
business  to  do  it.  I  never  saw  such  a  fool  as 
you  are."  As  he  spoke,  he  touched  the  match 
to  the  paper. 

"  Here,  quit  that !  Don't  you  burn  that 
letter !  " 

"  Now,  Joe,  you  didn't  think  for  a  minute 
I'd  let  you  send  this,  did  you  ? " 

"  What  right  you  got  —  " 

"  The  right  of  self-preservation.  We  can't 
do  any  letter  writing  yet  awhile.  I'll  help  you 
out  with  money,  but  I  won't  let  you  do  this 
sort  of  thing.  Let's  start  back."  He  led  the 
way  to  the  road,  McGlory  sullenly  following ; 
and  side  by  side  they  stepped  out  for  the  farm 
house.  "  Beastly  sort  of  a  thing  to  do,  Joe, — 
ask  Madge  for  money  to  help  you  run  off  with 
this  woman." 

"Well,  I'd  like  to  know —  Ain't  she  had 
enough  from  me  —  " 

"  I  don't  doubt  she  has  stood  a  good  deal 
from  you.  What  sort  of  a  woman  is  she, 
Joe?" 

"  Madge  ?     Oh,  she's  all  right." 


THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Pretty  fond  of  you,  isn't  she  ?  " 

"  I  guess  there  ain't  much  doubt  about  that." 

"  I've  noticed  her  a  little." 

"  Oh,  you  have,  have  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  What  else  can  you  expect, 
skylarking  around  this  way  ?  " 

"  That's  all  right.  A  man's  got  to  have  his 
fling.  But  when  it  comes  to  —  " 

"  Madge  is  a  fine-looking  woman.  I  don't 
believe  you  know  how  pretty  she  is,  Joe.  If 
you  got  her  decent  clothes,  and  took  her  out  to 
the  theatre  now  and  then,  so  she  could  keep 
her  spirits  up,  she  would  be  hard  to  beat." 

This  was  a  new  idea  to  McGlory.  But 
what  he  said  was,  "  Seems  to  me  you've  done  a 
lot  of  thinking  about  my  wife." 

"  It's  your  own  fault.  But  look  here,  do 
you  think  such  an  awful  lot  of  Estelle  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  I've  had  some  fun  with  her.  Of 
course,  she  ain't  the  woman  that  Madge  is." 

"  I  was  wondering  a  little  —  "  McGlory's 
companion  paused. 

"  What  was  you  wondering  ?  " 

"  What  you're  going  to  do  with  Estelle 
when  you  find  her." 

"  Do  with  her  ?     Why  —  why  —  " 


VAN   DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  315 

"You  didn't  think  she'd  come  right  back  to 
you  —  things  the  same  as  they  was  before  — 
did  you  ? " 

«Why__» 

"  Did  she  know  you  had  a  wife  ? " 
"  Well,  no,  —  she  didn't  know  that." 
"  But   she   does    now.      She    has    read    the 
letter." 

McGlory  had  not  thought  of  this. 
"  Estelle  isn't  altogether  a  fool,  you  know. 
Not  so  bad  as  Roche  —  or  you.     If   I  were 
you,  I'd  stick  to  Madge.     If  you  don't,  some 
better  fellow  will." 

"  Who  do  you  mean  now,  for  instance  ?  " 
"  Never  mind  who  I  mean.  I  don't  think 
you've  seen  yet  how  mussy  this  business  is. 
Here  Estelle  is,  like  enough,  on  our  hands. 
Now  we  can't  leave  her  behind.  She  wouldn't 
come  along  with  you ;  and  even  if  she  would, 
she  isn't  strong  enough.  If  we  did  leave  her 
here,  it  simply  means  that  she  would  be  blab 
bing  out  the  whole  story  to  the  first  good- 
looking  chap  that  asked  her  a  few  questions." 
"  But  don't  you  see  ?  I  can't  let  a  man 
insult  me  like  Roche  done." 

No,    you    can't.     But   if    you    could    fix 


cc 


316  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

things  so  Roche  nor  nobody  could  get  her, 
and  still  you'd  be  free  to  go  back  to  Madge, 
you  wouldn't  object,  would  you  ?  " 

"Why,  no  —  sure  not.  How  do  you 
mean  ? " 

"  If  you  find  her  there  at  the  house,  or  in 
the  barn,  or  anywhere  around,  you'd  better 
just  —  here,  your  knife  ain't  much  good. 
Take  mine."  He  opened  his  clasp  knife  — 
the  blade  was  five  inches  long  —  and  held  it 
out. 

McGlory  took  it,  stood  still  in  his  tracks 
looking  at  it,  and  then  raised  his  eyes  to  the 
face  of  his  companion. 

"  Well  —  have  you  got  the  nerve  ?  " 

"  Have  I  got  the  nerve  !  "  McGlory  laughed 
out  loud,  and  thrust  the  open  knife  into  his 
belt,  at  the  side,  under  his  coat. 

"  I  wouldn't  use  a  gun  unless  I  had  to." 
He  paused,  laid  his  hand  on  McGlory's  arm, 
and  dropped  his  voice.  "  Look  there ! 
There's  a  light  in  the  window." 

McGlory  swelled  with  rage.  "  I'll  put  a 
stop  to  this  !  " 

"  Hold  on  a  minute,  Joe.  I'll  slip  around 
the  bank  of  the  creek  here,  the  other  side  of 


VAN    DEELEN'S    BRIDGE  317 

the  barn,  so  I  can  watch  the  road  and  the  barn 
both."  He  ran  silently  away,  dodging  among 
the  trees,  and  in  a  moment  had  disappeared. 
While  McGlory  was  standing  there,  breathing 
hard  and  twitching  impatiently,  he  passed  be 
hind  the  barn-yard,  keeping  always  among  the 
trees  of  the  bank,  and  on  to  the  bridge.  Here 
he  looked  carefully  around,  then  stooped  under 
the  beams  of  the  bridge  flooring  and  got  into 
a  scow  that  lay  there. 

McGlory  stood  still  as  long  as  he  could, 
then,  throwing  the  reins  to  his  temper,  he 
strode  toward  the  house. 


CHAPTER    XII 
THE   MEETING 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE   MEETING 

IT  was  between  eleven  o'clock  and  midnight 
when  McGlory  and  his  companion  returned 
to  Van  Deelen's  ;  it  was  between  ten  and  eleven 
of  this  same  Thursday  night  when  Axel  Lind- 
quist  was  taken  sick  on  the  road,  not  a  long 
walk  from  his  father's  house. 

In  less  than  an  hour  Beveridge  and  his  com 
panions  reached  a  turn  in  the  road  and  found 
themselves  at  the  top  of  the  slope,  —  it  was 
hardly  a  hill,  —  with  Van  Deelen's  bridge  a 
little  way  below  them,  and  the  farm-yard  be 
yond.  Beveridge  extinguished  the  lantern. 

"  Look  there  !  "  Wilson  exclaimed. 

"  Where  ? " 

"  At  the  house  yonder.  Don't  you  see 
there's  a  light  burning  ?  " 

"  That's  a  fact.  We'll  move  a  little  quietly, 
boys.  Bert,  you  step  around  between  the 
x  321 


322  THE   MERRT  -ANNE 

house  and  the  barn  and  keep  an  eye  on  the 
back  door.  Harper  will  be  with  you." 

They  started  down  toward  the  bridge  while 
Beveridge  was  speaking.  When  they  had 
crossed  over,  Harper  stopped. 

"  Can  you  wait  just  a  minute  ?  I've  got  a 
stone  in  my  shoe." 

"  We'll  go  ahead.  Come  on  as  soon  as  you 
can  and  join  Bert  out  by  the  barn."  And  the 
three  passed  on,  leaving  Pink  on  a  log  at  the 
roadside. 

Beveridge  and  Smiley  went  up  to  the 
front  door  and  knocked.  There  was  no 
response.  But  for  the  light  in  one  window, 
the  house  might  have  been  deserted.  Bev 
eridge  knocked  again.  "  Open  up  in  there  !  " 
he  shouted.  But  no  one  answered.  Smiley 
turned  and  looked  around  the  dim  clearing 
with  a  shudder.  "  Lonesome,  isn't  it  ? "  he 
said.  "  What  a  place  to  live  !  " 

Beveridge's  mind  was  bent  on  getting  in. 
"  So  they  won't  answer,  eh  ?  We'll  see." 
He  stepped  back  to  the  ground,  picked  up 
a  length  of  cord-wood,  and  struck  a  heavy 
blow  on  the  door.  At  this,  a  head  appeared 
in  an  upper  window. 


THE   MEETING  323 

"Who's  there?" 

"  Open  your  door  and  I'll  tell  you." 

"  Tell  me  who  you  are,  first." 

"A  special  agent  of  the  United  States 
Treasury  Department." 

"  What  do  you  want  me  for  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  anything  about  you.  1  want 
the  men  you  have  hidden  here." 

"  There  ain't  nobody  here  but  my  wife  and 
me." 

"Will  you  open,  or  shall  I  break  in  your 
door?" 

"  Wait  a  minute  !  Don't  break  it !  How 
do  I  know  you're  what  you  say  you  are  ? " 

"  Smiley,  fetch  a  rail,  will  you  please  ?  " 

"  Hold  on  there  !  I'll  be  down  in  a  minute." 
The  minute  was  not  a  quarter  gone  when  the 
same  voice  was  heard  through  the  door,  saying, 
"You  haven't  told  me  your  names  yet." 

"  Are  you  going  to  open  this  door  ? " 

"Yes,  yes.  Don't  get  impatient  now." 
The  bolt  slid  back,  and  the  door  opened  a  few 
inches.  These  inches  were  promptly  occupied 
by  Beveridge's  foot. 

"  What's  your  name,  my  friend  ?  "  asked  the 
special  agent. 


324  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Van  Deelen.  I  don't  see  what  you  want 
here.  There  ain't  nobody  here  but  us." 

"  We'll  see  about  that."  Beveridge,  as  he 
spoke,  threw  his  weight  on  the  door  and  forced 
it  open  so  abruptly  that  the  farmer  was  thrown 
back  against  the  wall.  He  entered  with  Smi 
ley  close  at  his  heels.  "  Of  course,"  he  went 
on,  as  he  shut  it  behind  him,  "if  there  isn't 
anything  really  the  matter  here,  you  won't  mind 
my  looking  around  a  little." 

"  Why,  no  —  oh,  no  —  only  —  " 

"  Only  what  ?  " 

"  My  wife's  down  sick,  and  any  noise  or 
excitement  might  upset  her." 

"  Nervous  trouble,  maybe." 

"  Yes,  something  of  that  sort." 

"  Has  to  keep  her  room,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Yes,  yes." 

"  Room  shut  up  so  noise  won't  disturb 
her?" 

"Yes,  we  keep  it  shut." 

"  Place  got  on  her  nerves  a  little,  maybe. 
Should  think  it  would  be  sort  of  monotonous 
here.  No  doctor,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  No,  not  this  side  of  Hewittson." 

"  How  long  has  she  been  troubled  ?  " 


THE   MEETING  325 

«Why__» 

"  Sudden  attack,  to-day  or  yesterday  ?  Sick 
headache,  and  all  that  ?  " 

"Yes  —  she  has  a  bad  headache." 

"  Good  deal  of  nausea,  too  ?  Sight  of  food 
distasteful  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  doesn't  want  anything  to 
eat." 

"  Can't  keep  anything  on  her  stomach  ? 
Lost  interest  in  living  —  no  enthusiasm  for 
anything  ?  Is  that  the  form  it  takes  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes  —  yes  —  " 

"  Curious  thing.  Seems  to  prevail  in  this 
neighborhood.  Young  Lindquist,  back  up 
the  road,  has  the  same  trouble." 

Van  Deelen's  stolid  face  wore  a  puzzled 
expression.  He  seemed  not  to  know  how 
far  to  resent  this  inquisition.  "  Say,"  he 
asked,  "  what  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  know  if  you  always  receive  folks 
with  a  shot-gun  ?  " 

"Why  —  " 

"  Bad  characters  in  the  neighborhood, 
maybe.  Have  they  been  giving  you  trouble 
to-night  ? " 

"  Who're  you  talking  about  ?  " 


326  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  McGlory  and  the  rest.  When  did  they 
come  ?  " 

"  There  hasn't  anybody  been  here." 

"Oh,  all  right.  That's  first-rate  —  would 
you  mind  stepping  up  and  telling  your  wife 
the  doctor  has  come  ?  " 

"You  ain't  a  doctor." 

"  Come,  my  friend,  don't  contradict.  I'm 
afraid  we'll  have  to  take  a  look  into  her 
room." 

"Oh,  you  will!" 

"  Yes.  We'll  walk  around  this  floor  a  little 
first.  Will  you  entertain  him  a  minute, 
Smiley  ?  " 

Beveridge  slipped  away,  leaving  the  two 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  He  moved 
from  room  to  room,  carrying  a  lamp  which  he 
had  found  in  the  front  room  and  had  lighted. 
Soon  he  returned,  set  down  the  lamp  where 
he  had  found  it,  and  joined  Smiley  and  the 
farmer.  "  So  Estelle's  had  her  hair  cut,"  he 
observed. 

Van  Dee!  en  shot  a  glance  at  him,  but  Bever 
idge  went  easily  on.  "  Now  we'll  go  upstairs, 
Dick." 

Van  Deelen,  gun  in  hand,  retreated  upward 


THE    MEETING  327 

a  few  steps  and  barred  the  way.  Beveridge 
looked  at  him,  then  he  stepped  quickly  up 
and  seized  the  gun  by  barrel  and  stock.  The 
farmer  could  easily  have  shot  him,  but  he  made 
no  attempt.  And  now  the  two  men  silently 
wrestled  there,  Van  Deelen  in  the  more  advan 
tageous  position,  but  Beveridge  showing  greater 
strength  than  his  figure  seemed  to  promise. 
Finally,  with  a  quick  wrench,  the  special 
agent  got  possession  of  the  weapon  and  passed 
it  down  to  Smiley.  "  Now,  Mister  van  Dee 
len,"  he  said,  "  will  you  please  stand  aside  ?  " 

For  reply  the  farmer  began  retreating  back 
ward  up  the  stairway,  always  facing  Beveridge, 
who  followed  closely.  Dick  drew  the  shells 
from  the  gun,  tossed  it  into  the  front  room, 
and  came  after.  The  upper  hall  was  square, 
and  of  the  three  doors  around  it  only  one  was 
closed.  Beveridge  stepped  into  each  of  the 
open  rooms,  and  then  tried  the  door  of  the 
third,  while  Van  Deelen  stood  sullenly  by. 

"  Will  you  open  this  door  ? "  Beveridge 
asked,  with  the  beginnings  of  impatience. 

No  reply  from  the  farmer.  Smiley  drew 
Beveridge  aside  and  whispered,  "  Maybe  it's 
true  that  she's  sick  in  there." 


328  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Not  much." 

"  But  we  haven't  found  her  anywhere  around 
the  house." 

"  If  she  is  there,  she  isn't  alone." 

"  But  I  kind  of  hate  to  break  into  a  woman's 
room  this  way." 

"  Don't  get  chicken-hearted,  Dick."  He 
turned  to  the  farmer  and  asked  again,  "  Will 
you  open  this  door  ?  " 

There  was  no  reply. 

Without  another  word  Beveridge  threw 
himself  against  it ;  but  it  was  stoutly  built 
and  did  not  yield.  All  three  heard  a  gasp 
of  fright  from  within. 

"  Hold  on,  Bill,"  Smiley  exclaimed.  "  No 
use  breaking  your  collar-bone.  I'll  get  a 
rail." 

He  said  this  with  the  idea  of  bullying 
either  the  farmer  or  the  persons  within  the 
room  into  opening  the  door,  but  Van  Deelen 
remained  sullen  and  motionless.  Beveridge, 
however,  caught  up  the  idea ;  and  with  a 
"  Wait  here,  Dick,"  he  ran  down  the  stairs. 
In  entering  the  house  they  had  closed  the 
door  after  them,  and  now  Beveridge  had  to 
stop  and  fumble  a  moment  with  the  lock. 


THE   MEETING  329 

But  it  was  only  a  moment,  and  pulling  it  open 
he  plunged  out. 

A  breathless  man  with  his  hat  pulled  down 
was  starting  up  the  steps.  Beveridge  stopped 
short ;  so  did  the  breathless  man.  For  an 
instant  they  stood  motionless,  one  staring 
down  from  the  top  step,  the  other  staring 
up  from  the  bottom.  Then  Beveridge  saw, 
in  the  shadow  of  the  hat-brim,  a  black  mus 
tache  ;  and  at  the  same  instant  the  owner 
of  the  mustache  recognized  the  figure  above 
him. 

Not  for  worlds  would  Beveridge  have  called 
out.  He  had  McGlory  fairly  in  his  hands, — 
the  moment  he  had  been  hoping  for,  almost 
praying  for,  had  come,  —  and  he  could  never 
have  resisted  the  desire  to  take  him  single- 
handed.  McGlory  was  heavy,  muscular, 
desperate  —  these  were  merely  additional 
reasons.  Beveridge  had  known  little  but 
plodding  work  for  weeks  and  months  —  here 
was  where  the  glory  came  in.  And  glory 
was  what  he  craved  —  a  line  in  the  papers, 
the  envy  of  his  associates,  the  approbation 
of  his  superiors. 

And  so,  when  he  saw  McGlory  before  him 


330  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

in  the  flesh,  silently  tugging  at  something  in 
his  hip  pocket,  he  not  only  sprang  down  on 
him  as  a  mountain  lion  might  leap  on  its 
prey,  —  not  only  this,  but  he  took  pains,  even 
in  this  whirling  moment,  to  make  no  noise 
in  the  take-off.  McGlory  got  the  revolver 
out,  but  he  was  a  fifth  of  a  second  too  late. 
Just  as  he  swung  it  around,  the  special  agent 
landed  on  him,  caught  his  wrist,  gripped  him 
around  the  neck  with  his  other  arm,  and  bore 
him  down  in  the  sand  of  the  dooryard. 
Neither  made  a  sound,  save  for  occasional 
grunting  and  heavy  breathing.  They  rolled 
over  and  over,  Beveridge  now  on  top,  now 
McGlory.  McGlory  was  hard  as  steel ; 
Beveridge  was  lithe  and  quick.  If  McGlory 
gripped  him  so  tight  around  the  body  that 
it  seemed  only  a  question  of  seconds  before 
his  ribs  must  go,  one  after  another,  Beveridge 
never  slackened  his  hold  of  that  bull-like 
neck.  McGlory  struggled  to  turn  the  re 
volver  toward  Beveridge  ;  but  Beveridge  held 
to  his  wrist  and  bent  it  back  —  back  —  until 
any  other  man  must  have  dropped  the  weapon 
for  the  sheer  pain  of  it. 

The  door  had  swung  to  behind  Beveridge 


THE   MEETING  331 

as  he  went  out ;  the  horse  was  thrashing  in 
the  barn ;  and  Dick,  leaning  against  the  closed 
door  of  Mrs.  van  Deelen's  bedroom,  looking 
at  the  farmer,  heard  nothing  of  the  struggle 
that  was  going  on  outside.  He  was  wonder 
ing  what  interest  this  farmer  could  have  in  a 
gang  of  smugglers.  He  decided  to  ask. 
This  business  of  standing  opposite  him  and 
exchanging  the  glances  of  two  hostile  dogs 
was  not  a  pleasant  experience  for  a  man  of 
Dick's  sociable  humor. 

"  I've  been  wondering,  Van  Deelen,  what 
you're  acting  this  way  for." 

A  suspicious  glance  was  all  this  remark  drew 
out. 

"  I  don't  believe  you're  mixed  up  with  that 
crew,  and  I  don't  see  how  you  can  be  interested 
in  covering  their  tracks.  Are  you  sure  you 
aren't  taking  the  wrong  tack  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  covering  anybody's  tracks.  You 
don't  know  what  you're  talking  about." 

"  Can't  you  see  that  we  don't  enjoy  break 
ing  into  people's  houses  and  prying  around  in 
bedrooms  ? " 

"  What  do  you  do  it  for  then  ? " 

"  What  do  we  do  it  for !     Why,  McGlory 


332  THE    MERRT  ANNE 

and  his  gang  are  smugglers  —  they're  a  bad 
lot.  And  this  man  with  me  is  a  government 
officer." 

"  That  ain't  telling  why  you  come  here" 

"  Now,  Van  Deelen,  what's  the  use  of  keep 
ing  up  that  bluff?  It  doesn't  fool  anybody. 
We  know  all  about  their  coming  here.  We've 
tracked  them  this  far.  This  officer  will  never 
leave  the  house  until  he  has  opened  this  door 
and  seen  who  you've  got  in  here.  I  can 
promise  you  he'll  act  like  a  gentleman.  Now 
don't  you  think  it  would  be  a  good  deal  better 
just  to  open  up  and  be  done  with  it  ?  " 

Having  no  reasonable  answer  to  this,  Van 
Deelen  fell  back  into  his  sullen  silence. 

"  Wonder  what's  taking  him  so  long,"  Dick 
observed.  "  Would  he  have  to  go  far  for  a 
rail?" 

There  was  no  answer. 

Altogether,  it  was  not  a  cheerful  situation. 
Dick,  who  had  borne  up  capitally  so  far,  now 
experienced  a  sinking  of  spirits.  He  looked 
first  at  the  glum  figure  before  him,  then  at  the 
dingy  walls  and  ceiling,  then  down  into  the 
shadows  of  the  stairway.  Seeing  nothing  that 
could  prop  his  spirits,  he  fell  to  humming 


THE   MEETING 


333 


"  Baby  Mine."  "  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he 
broke  out,  interrupting  himself ;  "maybe  I'm 
disturbing  your  wife  ?  " 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  You're  a  hilarious  old  bird,"  said  Dick. 

No  answer  —  nothing  but  that  glum  Dutch 
face. 

"  Oh,  well  —  go  to  thunder!  " 

Not  even  a  gleam  of  anger  disturbed  those 
Dutch  eyes.  Dick,  his  feeble  struggle  over, 
succumbed  to  the  gloom  and  was  silent.  And 
such  silence  as  it  was  !  The  horse,  over  in  the 
barn,  had  ceased  kicking  about ;  the  air  was 
still.  The  creakings  of  the  old  house  sounded 
like  the  tread  of  feet.  The  loud  breathing  of 
the  person  within  the  closed  room  could  be 
distinctly  heard. 

There  was  a  shot  outside  —  then  silence  — 
two  more  shots  —  again  the  silence.  It  is 
curious  how  a  revolver  shot,  in  the  stillness  of 
the  night,  can  be  at  once  startling  and  insignifi 
cant.  Curious,  because  it  is  not  very  loud  — 
no  deafening  report  —  no  reverberation  —  but 
merely  a  dead  thud,  as  if  the  sound  were  smoth 
ered  in  a  blanket.  And  yet  it  was  loud  enough 
to  raise  goose-flesh  all  over  Dick's  body  and 


334  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

send  the  creepy  feeling  that  we  all  know  through 
the  roots  of  his  hair,  as  if  a  thousand  ants  had 
suddenly  sprung  into  being  there.  At  the  first 
report  he  stiffened  up ;  the  second  and  third 
met  his  ears  halfway  down  the  stairs.  Van 
Deelen,  frightened,  bewildered,  ran  down  close 
after  him. 

Dick  paused  at  the  foot  of  the  steps  and 
looked  around.  In  an  instant  he  made  out  the 
familiar  figure  of  Beveridge  a  dozen  yards 
away.  The  special  agent  was  standing  over  a 
prostrate  man,  one  hand  gripping  a  revolver, 
the  other  fumbling  in  his  pocket  for  a  handker 
chief.  The  sweat  was  glistening  on  his  face, 
his  collar  and  tie  hung  down  his  breast,  his 
coat  was  torn  clear  across  the  back. 

Dick  joined  him,  and  knelt  over  the  man  on 
the  ground. 

"We've  wasted  time  enough  on  him,"  said 
Beveridge,  catching  his  breath. 

"  Who  —  oh,  it's  McGlory  !  Is  —  is 
he  —  " 

"  Shouldn't  wonder.  Help  me  get  a  rail, 
will  you  ? " 

They  started  without  further  words  toward 
the  barn-yard  fence. 


THE   MEETING  335 

"Hold  on,"  said  Dick.  "There's  that 
cord-wood  we  used  on  the  front  door." 

"  That  will  do." 

So  they  went  back  and  picked  up  the  heavy 
stick.  At  this  moment  Harper  came  run 
ning  up,  his  shoe  in  his  hand.  "  I  didn't 
know  you  was  going  to  be  in  such  a  thunder 
ing  hurry  to  begin  the  shooting,  Mr.  Beveridge. 
I  'most  cut  my  foot  to  pieces  running  up 
here." 

"  Come  along,  Dick,"  said  Beveridge. 

"  Good  Lord  !  "  gasped  Harper,  suddenly 
taking  in  the  figure  of  the  special  agent. 
"  What  they  been  doing  to  you  ? " 

But  Beveridge  gave  no  heed  to  the  question. 
"  Stay  here  at  the  steps,  Harper,  and  if  any 
more  come  up,  don't  let  'em  get  away  from 
you."  With  the  cord-wood  on  his  shoulder, 
he  entered  the  house  and  started  up  the  stairs. 
But  Van  Deelen  hurried  after  him  and  caught 
his  arm. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  ? " 

"  You  needn't  use  that." 

«  You'll  let  me  in  ?  " 

"Yes." 

Beveridge  promptly  set  down  his  burden  on 


336  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

the  stairs,  and  stood  aside  to  let  the  farmer 
take  the  lead. 

Van  Deelen  tapped  at  the  door,  and  softly 
called,  "  Saskia  !  " 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"You  have  to  open  the  door  and  let  this 
gentleman  in." 

"  Mercy,  no  !  " 

"  But  you  have  to  !  " 

"  Then,  —  "  the  voice  was  very  fluttery  and 
agitated  —  "then  wait  a  minute  after  I  unlock 
the  door." 

The  bolt  was  slipped,  and  they  could  hear 
a  frantic  rustling  and  scampering.  Van  Deelen 
opened  the  door  and  entered  the  room  with 
Beveridge  and  Smiley  at  his  heels.  As  they 
entered,  another  door,  evidently  leading  to  a 
closet,  was  violently  closed. 

The  three  men  stood  a  moment  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  room  without  speaking,  then  Bever 
idge  walked  over  to  the  bed.  The  woman 
lying  there  had  turned  to  the  wall  and  drawn 
the  coverlet  over  her  face.  Beveridge  bent 
over  and  jerked  it  back.  "  Smiley,"  he  called, 
"  come  here  and  see  if  this  ain't  your  old  friend, 
Estelle!" 


THE   MEETING  337 

The  woman  struggled  to  hide  her  face  again, 
but  Beveridge  rudely  held  her  quiet.  Dick 
would  have  turned  away  but  for  the  special 
agent's  impatience.  As  it  was  he  made  him 
speak  twice.  Then  he  went  slowly  and  shame 
facedly  to  the  bed.  "Yes,  I  guess  this  is 
Estelle,  all  right." 

They  saw  her  shudder.  Her  face  was  flushed 
with  fever.  Dick  took  Beveridge's  arm  and 
whispered,  "  For  heaven's  sake,  Bill,  don't  be 
a  beast."  But  Beveridge  impatiently  shook 
him  off. 

"Well,  Estelle,"  he  said,  "the  game's  up. 
We've  got  them." 

Her  eyes  were  wild,  but  she  managed  to 
repeat.  "  You've  got  them  ?  " 

"Yes.     You'll  never  see  McGlory  again." 

"  And  Pete  —  have  you  got  Pete  ?  " 

Beveridge  glanced  inquiringly  at  Smiley, 
who,  after  a  moment  of  puzzling,  nodded,  and 
with  his  lips  formed  the  name  "  Roche." 

"Yes,  we've  got  Roche.  Pretty  lot  they 
were  to  leave  you  here." 

But  Estelle  had  fainted. 

"  Here,  Dick,"  said  Beveridge,  "  bring  some 
water." 


338  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

Van  Deelen  indicated  the  washstand,  and 
Smiley  fetched  the  pitcher.  Beveridge  sat  on 
the  edge  of  the  bed  and  stroked  her  forehead 
with  the  cool  water.  He  asked  Van  Deelen 
for  some  whiskey,  and  forced  a  little  between 
her  teeth.  Finally  her  eyes  opened. 

"  There,"  said  Beveridge,  "  that  's  better. 
You'll  be  all  right  in  a  minute.  Now  tell  me 
why  they  left  you." 

"Look  here,  Bill,"  said  Dick,  "I  can't 
stand  this." 

Beveridge  paid  no  attention,  but  went  on 
stroking  her  forehead.  "Tell  me  why  they 
left  you,  Estelle.  They  weren't  very  square 
with  you." 

"It  was  Pete  —  "  The  whiskey  had  revived 
her  a  very  little. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  You  were  mistaken  in  Pete. 
He  never  meant  to  stand  by  you." 

"  He  said  — " 

"Yes  — goon." 

"He  said  we  —  we  could  get  away  — 
and  —  " 

"  Yes  ? " 

"  —  and  they  were  asleep  and  —  and  then 
we  saw  the  house,  and  —  oh,  I  can't  think  —  " 


THE   MEETING  339 

"  Bill,  —  for  heaven's  sake  !  "  cried  Dick. 

"  Yes,  it's  all  right,  Estelle.  You're  all  safe 
now.  Try  to  think." 

"  I  guess  I  fainted  —  Pete  was  gone  —  and  I 
—  I  don't  know  —  how  I  got  to  the  house  —  " 

"  That  will  do.  Go  to  sleep,  Estelle.  We'll 
take  good  care  of  you."  Beveridge  rose,  and 
looked  significantly  toward  the  closet  door. 
"  Now,  Mister,"  he  said,  addressing  the  farmer, 
"  we'll  just  take  a  look  in  that  closet  before  we 
go,  and  —  " 

A  protesting  voice,  muffled  by  hanging  gar 
ments,  but  shrill  nevertheless,  came  from  the 
closet,  and  Beveridge  smiled.  "  Is  it  your 
wife  ?  "  he  asked.  Van  Deelen  nodded.  And 
then,  the  smile  lingering,  Beveridge  led  the  way 
out  of  the  room. 

As  they  started  down  the  stairs,  Dick  ob 
served  :    "  You  were   awful   quiet   down  there 
with    McGlory,  Bill.     I'd  heard  your  second 
shot  before  I  knew  anything  was  happening." 
"  You  never  heard  my  second  shot." 
"  I  didn't  ?     I'd  like  to  know  why  I  didn't." 
"  Because  I  only  fired  once." 
"  Then  who  did  the  rest  of  it  ?     By  Jove  ! 
Where's  Wilson  ? " 


340  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

Beveridge  turned  sharply  at  the  question. 
"  That's  a  fact,"  he  muttered.  They  had 
reached  the  front  steps  by  this  time,  and  could 
see  Harper  ostentatiously  standing  guard  with 
drawn  revolver.  "  Say,  Pink,  have  you  seen 
Bert  anywhere  ? " 

"  No.     Thought  he  was  inside  with  you." 
"  Step  around  the  house,  quick.     We'll  go 
this  way." 

They  found  Wilson  lying  on  the  ground, 
not  far  from  the  front  of  the  house.  He  had 
plunged  forward  on  his  face,  with  his  arms 
spread  out  before  him.  Apparently  he  had 
been  running  around  from  the  rear  to  join 
Beveridge  when  the  ball  brought  him  down. 
In  an  instant  the  two  men  were  kneeling  by 
him. 

"  How  is  it,  Bill  ?     Can  you  tell  ?  " 
"  He  isn't  gone  yet.     Get  a  light,  will  you  ?  " 
Dick  ran  back  into  the  house  and  brought 
out  Van  Deelen  with  a  lamp   and   some  im 
provised  bandages.     Beveridge  had  some  prac 
tical  knowledge  of  first  aid  to  the  injured;  and 
the  farmer  seemed  really  to  have  some  little 
skill,  as  a  man  must  who  lives  with  his  family 
twenty-five   miles  from  a  physician.     And  so 


THE   MEETING  341 

between  them  they  managed  to  stanch  the  flow 
of  blood  while  Dick  and  Pink  were  carrying  a 
small  bed  out  of  doors.  With  great  care  not 
to  start  the  flow  again,  they  carried  him  into  the 
front  room. 

"  Did  you  notice,"  said  Beveridge  to  Smiley, 
when  they  had  made  him  as  comfortable  as 
they  could,  "  where  he  was  hit  ?  " 

"  In  the  back,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  a  little  to  the  right.  Now  if  he 
fell  straight,  —  and  I  think  he  did,  because  the 
way  he  went  shows  that  he  was  running,  and 
that  he  simply  pitched  forward,  —  the  shot  must 
have  come  from  near  the  bridge,  maybe  from 
those  trees  a  little  down-stream  from  the  bridge. 
Now  there's  just  one  man  could  have  done  it, 
to  my  notion.  He  was  an  old  hand,  because 
it  was  a  pretty  shot  at  the  distance  and  in  that 
light." 

"  Who  do  you  think  r  " 

"Well,  now,  there's  Roche.  He  skipped 
out  some  time  ago  and  left  Estelle  in  the 
woods.  He  wouldn't  have  done  that  unless 
he  was  badly  scared,  would  he  ?  Isn't  he  a 
pretty  poor  lot,  anyway  —  no  nerve,  just 
bluster  ? " 


342  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  That's  Pete.  If  he  is  fairly  started  run 
ning,  he  won't  stop  to-night." 

"  That's  about  what  I  thought  about  him. 
It's  pretty  plain  he  would  never  have  come 
back  here  with  McGlory  after  him  —  you  see 
McGlory  had  come  after  him,  —  he  was  chasing 
Roche  because  he  had  run  off  with  Estelle  — 
and  made  such  a  cool  shot  as  that  was.  So 
we'll  rule  out  Roche.  And  McGlory  is  ruled 
out  too,  and  Estelle." 

"Oh  —  " 

"  So  that  leaves  just  c  the  boss '  —  Spencer." 

"  That  sounds  reasonable." 

"  He  has  nerve  enough  for  anything,  hasn't 
he?" 

"He  looks  as  if  he  had." 

"Now  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do.  We'll 
get  this  Dutch  woman  to  nurse  Bert  here,  and 
then  the  four  of  us  will  step  down  to  the  bridge 
and  see  what  we  can  make  of  it  —  or  hold  on ; 
I'll  take  Van  Deelen  and  go  to  the  bridge,  and 
you  and  Harper  can  go  down  to  the  creek  be 
low  the  barn  and  work  up  to  the  bridge. 
What  do  you  think  of  that  ? " 

"  First-rate." 

"  You  aren't  too  fagged  ?  " 


THE    MEETING  343 

"  Not  me  —  not  while  the  rest  of  you  are  on 
your  pins." 

"  That's  the  taik.  I'll  see  about  the  woman 
here." 

"  Say,  Bill,  wait  a  minute.  You  aren't  plan 
ning  to  walk  right  up  to  the  bridge,  are  you  ? " 

"Sure.     Why  not?" 

"  If  I  was  you,  I'd  work  around  through  the 
trees  a  little.  He  may  be  there  yet,  and  we 
know  how  he  can  shoot." 

"  What's  the  use  ?  It's  all  a  gamble  any 
how.  The  thing  to  do  is  to  go  on  the  run. 
A  man  is  a  good  deal  like  a  dog,  you  know. 
If  you  run  right  at  him  and  show  all  over  you 
that  you  mean  business,  why,  even  if  he  thinks 
he  is  ready  for  you,  it's  likely  to  bother  him. 
Upsets  his  nerve  —  starts  him  thinking  he  is 
on  the  losing  side." 


CHAPTER    XIII 

WHISKEY   JIM 


CHAPTER   XIII 

WHISKEY  JIM 

BEFORE  the  four  men  left  the  house  Wil 
son  revived  and  asked  for  his  chief. 
Beveridge,  his  torn  coat  thrown  aside,  hurried 
back  and  bent  over  the  bed.  "  What  is  it, 
Bert?" 

"That's  what  I  was  going  to  ask  you.  I 
don't  remember  —  exactly  —  " 

"  You  were  running  around  the  house  when 
somebody  winged  you.  It  doesn't  amount  to 
anything  —  you'll  be  around  in  a  day  or  so." 

"Oh,  yes  —  that's  it.  It  was  some  fellow 
behind,  wasn't  it?  I  remember  I  didn't  see 
anybody  ahead." 

"  Yes  —  he  was  a  little  below  the  bridge,  as 
I  figure  it." 

"  Yes  —  yes  —  don't  you  see,  Bill  ?  That's 
where  Harper  was  —  he  stayed  behind  with 
some  yarn  about  his  shoe  —  had  a  stone  in  it." 

347 


348  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Keep  quiet,  Bert !  don't  get  worked 
up-" 

"  But  think  of  it,  Bill !  What  you  going  to 
do  now  ? " 

"  I'm  going  to  find  the  man  that  hit  you." 

lt  Not  with  those  two,  Smiley  and  Harper  ?  " 

"  Why,  certainly." 

"  But  don't  you  see,  Bill  ?  That's  just  what 
they  want.  They've  got  rid  of  me — now 
they'll  draw  you  off  into  the  woods  —  why, 
you're  putting  yourself  right  in  their  hands ! " 

"  You'd  better  try  to  think  of  something 
else,  Bert.  Mrs.  van  Deelen  here  is  going  to 
take  good  care  of  you.  I'll  stop  in  on  the 
way  back."  And  Beveridge  slipped  out  the 
door  without  giving  Wilson  further  opportu 
nity  to  protest. 

The  others  were  waiting  impatiently  at  the 
steps.  Smiley  and  Harper  at  once  started  off 
toward  the  creek  below  the  barn ;  and  Bever 
idge  set  out  on  a  run  for  the  bridge,  telling 
the  farmer  to  follow. 

When  he  reached  the  creek,  Beveridge 
searched  through  the  trees  for  some  distance 
down-stream  and  then  up-stream,  but  found 
no  sign  of  a  man.  "  Well,"  he  said,  joining 


WHISKEY   JIM  349 

Van  Deelen  at  the  end  of  the  bridge,  "  he  got 
away  all  right." 

"Did  you  look,  under  the  bridge?" 

"  Yes.     Nothing  there." 

The  farmer  stood  still  for  a  moment,  think 
ing  ;  then  he  clambered  down  the  bank  and 
peered  into  the  shadow  under  the  bridge  floor. 
"  Come  down  here,"  he  said.  And  when  Bev- 
eridge  had  reached  his  side,  standing  ankle- 
deep  in  the  muddy  water,  he  went  on,  "  See 
that  ? " 

"  No  —  wait  a  minute,  I  can't  see  anything 
yet.  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Feel  this  rope.     It's  been  cut." 

"  Oh,"  murmured  Beveridge,  "  I  see.  A 
boat." 

"Yes.     He  has  stolen  my  boat." 

"  Of  course  —  and  slipped  off  down-stream 
as  easy  and  quiet  as  you  like.  He's  a  cool 
hand,  that  Spencer.  Come  back  up  here  — 
we'll  go  on  down  and  meet  Smiley.  Wait, 
though,  he  might  be  hiding  anywhere  down 
the  stream  here.  Are  there  many  bushes  and 
such  along  the  bank  ? " 

"  Yes,  it's  grown  up  pretty  heavy.  I  never 
had  any  reason  for  keeping  it  cleared." 


350  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Well,  then,  we'll  keep  down  here  close  to 
the  water  where  we  can  see  things." 

"  It'll  be  pretty  wet.  Will  you  wait  while 
I  get  my  boots  ?  My  rheumatism's  been  pretty 
bad  this  year  —  " 

"  Go  back,  then,     I  can't  wait  for  you." 

And  with  this,  Beveridge  pushed  off  down 
the  stream.  Van  Deelen,  after  a  moment's 
hesitation,  followed.  They  met  the  other 
party  just  above  the  barn. 

"  See  anything  ?  "  asked  Dick. 

"Yes.  He  has  gone  down  in  a  boat." 
Beveridge  turned  to  the  farmer.  "  Does  the 
creek  go  on  far  in  this  direction  ? " 

"  No,  it  turns  off  south  pretty  soon." 

"  Would  it  take  him  anywhere  especial  ?  " 

"No — just  into  the  woods." 

"  No  houses  south  of  here  ?  " 

"  Not  for  a  long  way." 

"  And  it's  sluggish  like  this  all  along,  isn't 
it  ?  Full  of  snags  and  shallows  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  couldn't  go  very  fast." 

"All  right.     Come  on,  boys." 

On  they  went,  walking  over  the  spongy 
ground  below  the  bank  or  splashing  softly 
through  the  water.  They  did  not  speak,  but 


WHISKEY   JIM  351 

followed  their  leader  eagerly  through  the  mov 
ing  shadows.  The  trees  arched  over  their 
heads,  the  water  slipped  moodily  onward, 
blacker  than  the  shadows.  Now  and  then 
they  stumbled  over  projecting  roots,  or  stepped 
down  knee-deep  in  some  muddy  hole ;  all  the 
while  their  eyes  strove  to  pierce  the  dark, 
searching  for  a  boat  in  the  gloom  of  the  op 
posite  bank,  or  for  a  man  among  the  bushes 
above,  even  glancing  overhead  into  the  trees, 
where  a  desperate  man  might  have  hidden. 
At  length  they  reached  an  opening  in  the 
trees  of  the  right  bank,  and  Beveridge,  step 
ping  up,  found  that  the  road  here  paralleled 
the  creek. 

"  Which  way  now  ?  "  asked  Dick. 

"  No  sign  of  a  boat,  is  there  ?  " 

"  No." 

"Then  keep  on  down-stream." 

They  divided  now  in  order  to  watch  both 
banks,  for  the  creek  had  widened  a  little  and 
the  shadows  were  dense.  It  was  Smiley  and 
Harper  who  waded  across,  stepping  down  waist- 
deep  in  the  water  and  mud.  Not  a  word  was 
spoken.  The  only  sound  was  the  low  splash- 
splash  of  four  pairs  of  feet,  with  now  and  then 


352  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

the  noise  of  heavy  breathing  or  a  muttered  ex 
clamation  as  one  or  another  stumbled  into  a 
hole. 

"Hello  — ouch!" 

The  voice  was  Pink  Harper's.  At  this 
point  the  trees  had  shut  in  overhead,  and  the 
dark  was  impenetrable.  Beveridge  and  Van 
Deelen  could  see  nothing  across  the  creek,  not 
even  the  blot  of  denser  black  which  told 
Smiley,  only  a  few  feet  behind,  where  his  com 
panion  had  stopped. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  came  in  a  low  voice  from 
Beveridge. 

"Hit  my  shin.  Hold  on  —  feels  like  a 
boat.  Guess  you'd  better  come  across." 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation  the  special 
agent  turned  to  the  left  and  plunged  into  the 
stream.  At  this  point  it  was  deeper,  and  he 
found  himself  submerged  to  the  armpits.  To 
save  time  he  drew  up  his  feet  and  swam  across 
until  his  knees  struck  bottom.  And  then  the 
three  of  them,  —  Van  Deelen  waited  on  the 
farther  bank,  —  now  dimly  visible  to  each 
other,  stood  side  by  side  feeling  of  the 
boat. 

"  You'll  have  to  come  over  here,"  said  Bev- 


WHISKEY   JIM  353 

eridge  to  the  farmer,  "  and  tell  us  if  it's  your 
boat." 

Van  Deelen  had  no  mind  to  swim.  "Can't 
you  strike  a  match  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Strike  your  aunt !  "  growled  Beveridge, 
wringing  his  wet  clothes. 

"  Well,  say,  that  ain't  necessary  anyhow. 
My  boat's  the  only  one  on  the  creek." 

"Why  didn't  you  say  that  before  I  swam 
over  ?  " 

"Well,  I  —  " 

"  You  want  to  watch  out  or  you'll  be  coming 
down  with  brain  fever  one  of  these  days. 
Come,  boys,  we'll  go  back." 

"  You  think  what  he  did  was  to  take  to  the 
road  back  up  there  and  set  the  boat  adrift  ? " 
asked  Pink. 

"  Of  course."  The  words  came  from  the 
deeper  water,  where  the  special  agent  was 
already  swimming  back.  A  moment  more  and 
Dick  and  Pink  were  after  him. 

"  Now,  Mister  van  Deelen,"  said  Beveridge, 
when  they  had  gathered  together,  "  take  us  to 
the  road." 

"  It's  right  back  up-stream.  You  know 
where  it  is  as  well  as  I  do." 


354  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

"  Can't  we  strike  right  over  through  the 
woods  ? " 

"  Why,  yes,  you  could  do  —  " 

"  All  right,  Dick.  It'll  be  lighter  when  we 
get  up  out  of  this  hole." 

They  floundered  through  a  hundred  yards 
of  undergrowth  and  finally  came  upon  the 
open  road.  They  were  a  dismal  enough  party. 
The  water  in  their  shoes  gurgled  when  they 
moved  and  spurted  out  at  the  lacings  in  little 
streams.  Other  streams  ran  down  their  cloth 
ing  to  the  road,  where  the  sand  drank  them  up. 
Beveridge  was  without  coat  or  collar,  and  the 
others  were  nearly  as  dilapidated.  The  physi 
cal  strain  of  the  chase,  and  the  loss  of  sleep, 
not  to  speak  of  Beveridge's  fight  with  McGlory, 
had  worn  them  down  nearly  to  the  point  at 
which  nature  asserts  her  peremptory  claims, — 
but  not  one  of  them  knew  it.  They  did  not 
know  that  they  were  a  desperate  spectacle  in 
the  eyes  of  the  bewildered  farmer  ;  even  if  they 
could  have  stood  in  the  light  of  day  and  looked 
full  at  one  another,  it  is  to  be  doubted  if  any  of 
the  three  would  have  observed  the  deep-lined, 
white  faces,  the  ringed  eyes,  of  the  other  two. 
For  the  spirit  of  the  chase  was  in  them. 


WHISKEY   JIM  355 

"  Now,  Mister  Van,"  said  Beveridge,  almost 
gayly,  "  how  far  is  it  to  the  next  house  ? " 

"Why  —  why  —  " 

"  Don't  think  too  fast.  A  man  died  that 
way  once." 

"  There's  an  empty  house  about  a  mile  from 
here." 

"All  right,  we'll  make  for  that.  I  want 
you,  Van  Deelen,  to  hitch  up  a  wagon  and 
come  on  after  us  as  quick  as  you  can." 

The  farmer  turned  at  once  and  walked 
rapidly  up  the  road. 

"  Spencer  hasn't  much  start  of  us,"  said 
Beveridge,  as  the  three  men  started  in  the 
opposite  direction. 

"  He  couldn't  have.  It  took  him  a  good 
while  to  work  down  here  in  that  boat.  We'll 
get  him  if  he  keeps  the  road." 

"  He'll  have  to  do  that.  If  he  took  to  the 
woods,  he  would  be  lost  in  an  hour  —  and  that 
means  starvation." 

Pink  ventured  a  pleasantry,    "  Maybe  he's 
got  a    compass,"   of  which    the  special    agent 
took  not  the  slightest  notice ;  but  said,  turning 
to  Smiley,  "  How  are  your  legs,  Dick  ?  " 
Fine.     Trim  as  they  make  them." 


(C 


356  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Feel  up  to  a  dog  trot  ?  " 

c<  Half  a  dollar  even,  I'll  beat  you  to  the 
deserted  house." 

"  Hold  on,  don't  get  to  sprinting.  Save 
your  wind.  An  easy  jog  will  do  it." 

All  three  fell  at  once  into  an  easy  running 
gait,  Smiley  and  Beveridge  side  by  side,  Pink 
laboring  along  in  the  rear. 

Five  minutes  later  Beveridge  paused  for 
breath.  "  We  must  have  run  nearly  a  mile  by 
this  time,  boys." 

"Easily." 

"  Not  so  loud.  Doesn't  it  look  to  you  as  if 
the  road  turned  —  up  ahead  there  ?  " 

It  did  look  so ;  and  as  they  went  on  toward 
the  turning  it  grew  plain  that  they  were 
approaching  a  clearing. 

"  Wait,  boys,"  whispered  the  special  agent. 
"This  ought  to  be  the  place,  —  we  don't  want 
to  move  quite  so  carelessly  now.  Dick,  you 
go  around  to  the  left,  and  I'll  take  the  right ; 
Pink,  you  give  us  two  or  three  minutes  and 
then  move  in  quietly  toward  the  clearing.  In 
that  way  we  shall  all  three  close  in  together. 
Wait  a  few  minutes  now." 

The  two  men  disappeared  in  the  woods,  one 


WHISKEY  JIM  357 

on  each  side  of  the  road,  and  Pink  was  left 
alone  in  the  shadows.  At  first  he  could  hear 
now  and  then  a  low  rustle  as  one  or  the  other 
brushed  through  the  bushes,  but  soon  these 
sounds  died  away.  He  was  standing  in  the 
shadow  at  the  roadside,  gazing  with  fixed  eyes 
at  the  opening  in  the  trees  and  stumps  a  hun 
dred  yards  farther  along.  He  wondered  if  the 
three  minutes  were  up.  It  was  too  dark  to 
use  his  watch.  Waiting  there  under  the  stars, 
the  minutes  spun  out  amazingly ;  all  sense  of 
the  passage  of  time  seemed  to  have  left  him. 
He  moved  forward  a  few  steps, — but  no,  it  was 
too  early  ;  Dick  and  Beveridge  had  surely  not 
had  time  to  get  to  their  positions.  Still,  what 
if  he  should  wait  too  long,  and  not  arrive  in 
time  to  act  in  concert  with  the  others  ? 

Out  on  the  Lakes,  with  a  slanting  deck 
underfoot  and  a  dim  shore-line  somewhere  off 
in  the  night,  Pink's  soul  would  have  thrilled  in 
unison  with  the  stars,  but  here,  buried  in  the 
gloom  of  the  pine  stumps,  —  those  straight, 
blackened  poles  that  stood  in  endless  mo 
notony,  —  his  soul  was  overwhelmed.  A  panic 
seized  him  ;  he  knew  he  would  be  late ;  and 
he  took  to  gliding  along  in  the  shadows,  nearer 


358  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

and  nearer,  until,  seeing  plainly  that  the  road 
swung  around  to  the  right,  and  that  the  clear 
ing  was  overgrown  with  tall  weeds  and  was 
surrounded  by  a  stump  fence,  he  paused  again. 
His  feet  sinking  at  each  step  in  the  sand,  he 
made  no  sound. 

He  stood  motionless.  Over  the  weeds  he 
made  out  the  sagging  roof  of  a  small  building. 
Then,  forgetting  that  his  own  figure  was  invis 
ible  against  the  black  of  the  forest,  he  dropped 
to  the  ground  and,  flat  on  his  face,  wriggled 
forward.  A  row  of  sunflowers  grew  inside  the 
fence.  At  one  point  was  a  cluster  of  them, 
standing  out  high  above  the  weeds.  Cautiously 
inch  by  inch  he  crept  nearer.  The  bunched 
stalks,  outlined  so  distinctly  against  the  sky, 
fascinated  him  by  their  resemblance  to  the  hat, 
head,  and  shoulders  of  a  human  being. 

Nearer  —  nearer  —  a  moment  more  and  he 
would  be  able  to  place  his  hand  against  the 
fence.  He  was  holding  his  breath  now; 
afterward  he  could  never  tell  what  was  the 
slight  noise  he  must  have  made.  Or  perhaps 
it  was  the  sense  that  tells  one  when  a  person 
has  silently  entered  a  room  that  caused  the 
figure  — just  as  Pink,  lying  there  on  the  sand 


WHISKEY   JIM  359 

and  looking  up,  had  made  sure  that  it  was  a 
figure  and  not  a  clump  of  sunflowers  —  to 
look  around,  up  and  down.  Pink  scrambled 
to  his  feet  and  plunged  recklessly  forward. 
The  man,  who  had  been  sitting  on  the  fence, 
quietly  dropped  down  on  the  inner  side. 

A  stump  fence  is  not  easy  to  climb,  and  Pink 
was  on  the  outer  side,  where  the  tangled  masses 
of  roots  spread  out  into  a  cheveau-de-frise 
which,  in  the  dark,  seemed  insurmountable. 
When  he  had  finally  got  to  the  top,  at  the 
expense  of  a  few  scratches,  a  disturbance  in 
the  weeds  near  the  front  of  the  house  told  him 
where  the  fugitive  had  taken  refuge.  He 
promptly  set  up  a  shout. 

"  Ho-o-ho  !  "  came  simultaneously  from 
Smiley  and  Beveridge. 

"  Here  he  is  !  " 

"  Where  ? " 

"In  the  — "  Pink  was  balancing  on  the 
fence.  Before  he  could  finish  his  shout  a 
revolver  shot  sounded  from  the  house,  and  he 
went  tumbling  down  into  the  enclosure. 

"  What's  that !     Are  you  hit  ?  " 

"No — just  lost  my  balance.  Close  in  — 
he's  in  the  house."  He  was  getting  to  his 


360  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

feet  during  this  speech  and  feeling  himself,  not 
sure,  in  spite  of  his  statement,  whether  it  was 
the  noise  or  the  bullet  that  had  upset  him. 
But  he  could  find  no  trace  of  a  wound. 

"  Keep  your  places  !  "  Beveridge  was  calling 
to  the  others.  "  Keep  your  places  !  Now 
then,  Mr.  Spencer,  we  have  you  cornered.  You 
can  have  your  choice  of  giving  up  now  or  being 
starved  out.  Which  will  it  be  ?  " 

No  answer  from  the  house. 

"  Speak  up  !  I  don't  propose  to  waste  much 
more  time  on  you." 

This  time  the  fugitive  decided  to  reply ;  but 
his  reply  took  the  form  of  a  second  shot,  sent 
carefully  toward  the  spot  in  the  weeds  from 
which  the  voice  seemed  to  be  coming. 

"Hi!"  shouted  Pink,  "did  he  get  you?" 

"  No.     Shut  up,  will  you  ?  " 

The  man  with  the  revolver  was  plainly  an 
old  hand,  for  now  he  fired  a  third  time ;  and 
the  shot  came  dangerously  near,  whether  by 
luck  or  otherwise,  to  shutting  up  the  speaker 
for  all  time.  Beveridge  dropped  hastily  behind 
a  log  that  lay  at  his  feet.  Then,  disgusted 
with  himself,  he  scrambled  boldly  up  and  stood 
on  the  log. 


WHISKEY   JIM  361 

Pink  was  obediently  silent,  though  trembling 
with  excitement.  The  stillness  of  the  forest 
fell  suddenly  in  upon  them.  For  a  few  mo 
ments  nothing  was  said  or  done.  The  man  in 
the  house  had  a  momentary  advantage  which 
all  recognized.  What  light  the  sky  gave  was 
all  upon  the  clearing,  and  to  move,  however 
cautiously,  through  that  tangle  of  weeds  and 
bushes  without  setting  the  tops  to  waving,  was 
impossible.  The  building  was  so  small  that 
the  man  could,  with  little  effort,  command  all 
four  sides.  And  so  Beveridge  decided  on  a 
council  of  war  with  Smiley.  At  his  first 
movement  another  shot  came  cutting  through 
the  bushes ;  but  he  laughed  aloud,  and  went 
deliberately  on  in  a  quarter  circle  until  he 
found  Smiley.  "  Well,"  he  said  softly  and 
gleefully,  "  we've  got  him." 

"  If  we  can  keep  awake  as  long  as  he  can. 
What  are  you  going  to  do  now  ? 

"  Wait  till  dawn,  and  see  how  he  stands  it. 
No,  don't  look  at  me.  Keep  your  eyes  on  the 
house.  He's  too  slippery  to  run  chances  with. 
It  oughtn't  to  be  so  very  long  now.  How 
about  you  —  can  you  keep  up  all  right  ?  " 

"  Me  ?     Why,  certainly." 


362  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

"All  right,  then.  I'll  go  around  and  take 
the  boy's  place,  so  he  can  rest  a  bit.  Keep  a 
close  watch.  So  long." 

"  So  long." 

The  special  agent  went  on  around  his  circle, 
and  found  Pink  near  the  fence.  "I'll  be  here 
for  a  while,  Harper.  You'd  better  try  to  get 
some  sleep." 

"Me— sleep?" 

"  Take  your  chance  while  you  have  it." 

"  Moses  and  the  bulrushers  !  You  don't 
think  I  could  sleep  now  ?  " 

"  Just  as  you  like." 

To  the  three  watchers  there  seemed  to  be  a 
breakdown  somewhere  on  the  line  that  leads  to 
dawn.  The  hours  dragged  until  they  stopped 
short.  All  the  real  things  of  this  world,  cities 
and  schooners  and  houses  on  stilts  and  long 
reaches  of  blue  water,  had  slipped  back  into 
the  dim  land  of  dreams.  Nothing  was  real 
but  the  brooding  forest,  the  rank  weeds  with 
their  tale  of  desolation,  the  sand  —  sand  — 
sand.  Even  Beveridge,  sitting  on  his  log, 
gave  way.  At  each  sound  from  the  forest, 
—  a  crackle  or  a  rustle,  —  he  started  like  a 
nervous  woman.  Chilled  by  the  night  air  and 


WHISKEY   JIM  363 

his  wet   clothes,    he   shivered   until    his  teeth 
rattled. 

A  husky,  plaintive  voice  rose  into  the  night, 
singing.  It  came  from  Harper's  post  near  the 
stump  fence. 

"A  fu-nee-ral  per-cession  was  a-passin'  down  a  street 

That  was  lin'd  with  mansions  stately,  rich,  and  grand  ; 

A  tiny  girl  was  sobbin',  her  lit-tull  heart  most  broke, 

A  tear-stained  hank-er-chuff  was  in  her  hand. 

A  tall  and  stately  gentlemun,  touched  by  her  sorry  plight, 

For  she  was  pale  and  ragged,  thin  and  wan, 

He  stopped  and  took  her  lit-tull  hand,  and  gently  bending  o'er, 

'  Don't  cry,  my  child,  I'll  help  you  if  I  can.'  ' 

All  the  horrors  of  the  night  and  the  forest 
were  gathered  up  into  that  wailing  voice. 
Beveridge  shuddered.  But  Pink  was  warm 
ing  up  to  it  now,  sharing  his  misery  with  the 
night.  If  the  verse  had  been  doleful,  the 
refrain  was  worse  :  — 

"  «  Mother's  in  the  coffun,  sir, 
Mother's  left  her  home  ; 
The  ainjulls  come  and  took  her  up  on  high. 
But  if  I'm  good  and  kindly,  sir, 
And  never  off  do  roam, 
I'll  meet  her  in  the  sweet  by-and-by.'  " 

Beveridge  rose  uncertainly  to  his  feet.  The 
song  went  on  :  — 


364  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

" '  Tell  me  your  name,  my  lit-tull  child,'  the  gentlemun  did 

say, 

And  when  the  words  she  lisping  did  repeat, 
He  staggered  back  in  horror  with  remorse  wrote  on  his  face, 
And  —  " 

At  this  point  Beveridge  began  moving 
through  the  weeds.  Pink  sang  on ;  and  he 
was  just  breaking  out  into  the  refrain, — 

"  *  Mother's  in  her  cofRin,  sir, 
Mother's  left  her  home  ; 
The  ainjulls  come  and  took  her  up  — '  " 

when  he  heard  a  sound,  started,  looked  up, 
saw  a  dark  figure  bending  over  him,  and 
stopped  singing  with  a  gasp. 

"  That'll  do  for  you,"  said  the  dark  figure. 

"  Oh,  it's  you  !  "  exclaimed  Pink,  with  relief. 

"  That'll  do  for  you.     Understand  ?  " 

Pink  was  silent.  Beveridge  slipped  silently 
back  to  his  log. 

Night  has  a  way  of  giving  place  to  day, 
even  such  interminable  nights  as  this.  Neither 
hastening  nor  resting,  with  no  heed  for  the 
miserable  little  company  that  surrounded  the 
deserted  house  in  the  wilderness,  the  hours 
stepped  silently  on  into  eternity.  The  dark 
ness  slowly  changed  to  blackness ;  then  the 


WHISKEY  JIM  365 

east  brightened,  the  sky  paled,  the  new  day 
tossed  its  first  flaming  spears,  and  the  shiver 
ing  dawn  was  upon  them. 

Beveridge  got  up  very  slowly,  —  for  a  new 
kind  of  pain  was  shooting  through  his  joints,  — 
stretched,  and,  walking  bent,  like  an  old  man, 
cautiously  made  his  way  to  Smiley's  post.  The 
sailor  was  awake ;  but  whether  he  had  been 
awake  all  night  could  hardly  be  decided  from 
his  face.  Beveridge  had  his  suspicions,  but 
decided  not  to  air  them. 

"  Look  here,  Dick,"  he  began. 

"  All  right.     Go  ahead." 

"  How  are  your  joints  ?  " 

"  Never  worse.     How  about  yours  ?  " 

"  Same  way.  I  don't  know  how  you  feel, 
but  I've  had  enough." 

"  Can't  help  that,  can  we  ?  " 

"  I  can  help  it,  and  I'm  going  to." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  how." 

"  Keep  your  eyes  open  and  you'll  see.  I 
want  you  to  stay  here  under  cover." 

"  You  aren't  going  to  storm  the  house  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  that's  just  what  I'm  going  to  do." 

"  Have  you  thought  it  over  ?  He'll  shootj 
you  know." 


366  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  There  are  two  ways  of  leaving  this  world, 
Dick,  that  I  know  of.  One  way  is  to  catch 
your  death  of  rheumatism  and  go  off  slow ;  the 
other  is  to  let  a  man  who  can  handle  a  revolver 
make  a  neat,  clean  job  of  it.  I  don't  know 
how  you  feel  about  it,  but  I  prefer  the  neat 
way.  Now  you  wait  here  while  I  —  " 

"  Hold  on,  Bill.  Here  we  have  him  nicely 
penned  and  our  plan  of  siege  all  settled,  when 
you  up  and  change  your  tactics.  I  don't  see 
the  use  of  putting  yourself  up  for  a  target 
when  we  have  him  sure  the  other  way." 

"That's  all  right,  Dick." 

"  Here's  another  thing.  Wilson's  out  of  the 
running  —  suppose  he  puts  you  out  too.  What 
are  Pink  and  I  going  to  do  ?  We  have  no 
authority  to  arrest  the  man.  I'm  not  even 
sure  that  it  would  be  to  our  interest  to  try  it 
in  such  a  case.  Why  not  wait — just  settle 
down  to  it.  We  can  get  something  to  eat 
from  Van  Deelen.  Say,  didn't  you  tell  him  to 
follow  us  with  the  wagon  last  night  ?  " 

Beveridge  indulged  in  a  dry  smile.  "Yes, 
I  did.  But  I  didn't  more  than  half  think 
he'd  do  it.  You  do  as  I  tell  you,  Dick, 
and  —  " 


WHISKEY   JIM  367 

"Well,  if  your  mind's  made  up,  I  sup 
pose —  " 

Beveridge's  mind  was  made  up.  He  set 
out  without  further  words,  and  Dick  watched 
him,  uncertain  of  his  movements,  until  he  saw 
that  he  was  circling  around  in  the  direction  of 
the  stump  fence  and  Pink.  Dick's  thoughts 
were  unsettled.  Such  actions  were  foolhardy, 
now  that  it  was  nearly  broad  daylight.  It 
would  have  been  no  trick  at  all  to  put  a  few 
balls  into  the  body  below  the  waving  weeds 
that  marked  the  progress  of  the  special  agent. 
For  some  reason,  however,  the  shots  did  not 
come. 

Between  Dick  and  the  house  there  was  a 
comparatively  open  space.  By  stepping  for 
ward  a  few  yards  he  would  emerge  into  full 
view  of  the  man  in  the  house,  whereas  on 
Pink's  side  the  growth  was  rank,  and  Bever- 
idge,  if  he  should  go  directly  to  the  house 
after  giving  Pink  his  directions,  would  not  be 
visible  until  he  should  have  nearly  reached  the 
door.  But  the  telltale  weeds!  —  there  was 
something  in  the  thought  of  Beveridge  being 
shot  down  like  a  porcupine  as  he  floundered 
through  the  tangle  that  made  Dick  shudder. 


368  THE    MERRT  ANNE 

It  would  be  better  to  walk  straight  out  into  the 
open  and  be  done  with  it. 

Peering  from  his  hiding-place,  he  could  see 
that  all  was  quiet.  Beveridge  had  reached 
Pink,  and  was  probably  talking  with  him. 
But  he  could  not  hear  their  voices  —  the  clear 
ing  was  absolutely  still.  He  watched  —  and 
watched  —  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  spot  where 
Beveridge  had  stopped.  Perhaps  his  argu 
ments  had  taken  effect ;  perhaps  the  plan  had 
been  changed.  But  no,  the  weeds  were  mov 
ing  again. 

Dick's  blood  was  up.  He  drew  his  revolver 
and  plunged  straight  out  into  the  open  toward 
the  house. 

"Here  you  in  there  !  "  he  shouted.  "  Come 
out  or  fight !  Do  you  hear  me  ?  Come  out 
or  fight!  We've  got  you  on  all  sides  —  you 
can't  hit  us  all  —  come  out  and  be  done 
with  it." 

The  house  was  still.  Beveridge  heard 
Dick's  voice,  and  knew  what  he  was  doing. 
He  tried  to  run  forward,  tripped,  and  fell 
headlong  in  the  briers,  cursing  like  a  bucca 
neer.  Pink  heard  both  the  voice  and  the 
tumble,  and  at  the  instant  he  too  was  fighting 


"Put  up  your  guns,  boys,"    said  Henry. 


WHISKEY   JIM  369 

madly  forward  through  the  weeds.  Could  he 
be  expected  to  obey  orders  ?  To  sit  and 
twiddle  his  thumbs  while  Dick  was  fighting  ? 

Not  a  sound  came  from  the  house. 

Dick  walked  deliberately  to  the  door  and 
hammered  with  the  muzzle  of  his  revolver. 

"  Come  out,"  he  called, "  or  I'll  smash  it  in." 
He  heard  the  man  stir. 

<c  Come  out,  or  by !  " 

The  man  was  walking  slowly  across  the 
floor.  Dick  went  on  shouting  :  — 

"  No  tricks,  now  !  Open  your  door !  I've 
got  a  gun  on  you  —  I've  got  a  gun  on  you  !  " 

The  rusty  old  key  turned  and  the  door 
swung  back.  As  it  opened,  Beveridge  broke 
out  of  the  weeds,  with  Pink  close  after,  and 
the  three  men  stood  bewildered,  motionless, 
staring  at  the  square-built  figure  and  quiet  face 
of —  Henry  Smiley. 

They  could  not  speak.  Even  Beveridge 
had  lowered  his  weapon. 

"  Put  up  your  guns,  boys,"  said  Henry, 
with  a  sort  of  smile.  "  Put  up  your  guns ; 
I'll  go  back  with  you." 


2A 


CHAPTER    XIV 
HARBOR   LIGHTS 


Oa*PlMk^ 

.       *^      %; 

\    \t  '*•$&•'   xlfe?^ 

I      7       ...fiftf      *  JS&   ~ 
/,    \  • ''  .  •*"'•''{•/£--'* 


^.r/^'Zg^ty-""^ 
;&£-•:. .^2^Jc  :'"  . 

*' '  .  ^'"  ..i-j-f**!  -T  »--1'^cC<^L;7-ir:'i>'1"^'  ; 


•   -I-    .    -x--J>.J.i>,-.'-"^lV,;^<'.   .    .   . 


CHAPTER   XIV 
HARBOR   LIGHTS 

EVERIDGE  recovered  first,  and  said  in  a 
businesslike  way,  "  You'll  have  to  give 
me  your  weapons." 

Henry  at  once  handed  over  two  large-caliber 
revolvers,  and  emptied  his  pockets  of  fully 
half  a  hundred  cartridges.  "  It's  a  lucky 
thing  for  you,  Mister  Beveridge,"  he  said, 
"that  Dick  came  out  just  when  he  did.  A 
minute  more  and  I  should  have  finished 
you." 

But  Beveridge's  thoughts  were  not  heading 
in  the  same  direction.  His  reply  was, 
"  Where's  Spencer  ?  " 

"  Spencer  ?     You  didn't  get  him  ? " 

"  No." 

"  Then  he's  in  Canada." 

"  Oh,  I  see."  Beveridge  turned  to  Smiley. 
"  Weil,  Dick,  for  a  man  that  got  things  exactly 

373 


374  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

wrong,  you  came  nearer  to  being  right  than  I 
should  have  thought  possible." 

As  they  walked  back  toward  Van  Deelen's, 
Henry  fell  in  with  his  cousin.  "  You  don't 
seem  very  talkative,  Dick.  Guess  I  must  have 
surprised  you." 

But  Dick  could  not  find  his  voice  to 
reply. 

"  And  you  surprised  me  too,  rather.  How 
did  you  happen  to  be  up  here  with  this 
man  ? " 

"  Then  you  don't  know  that  he's  holding 
me  for  Whiskey  Jim  ?  "  cried  Dick. 

"No  — is  he?" 

Dick,  overcome  with  fatigue  and  emotion, 
nodded.  Henry  stopped  and  turned  to  the 
special  agent,  who  was  walking  close  behind. 

"  You  didn't  think  Dick  here  was  in  this 
business,  did  you  ?  " 

"  We'll  discuss  that  later.  Move  along, 
please." 

"  But  this  won't  do,  Beveridge.  Dick  has 
nothing  to  do  with  it,  nothing  whatever." 

"  I  suppose  he  didn't  know  where  his 
schooner  went  and  what  he  carried  aboard  her, 
eh?" 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  375 

"  Oh,  I  can  explain  all  that.  He's  all  right. 
I'm  the  man  you  want." 

"I'll  talk  with  you  again,  Mr.  Smiley.  We 
can't  stop  now." 

They  found  Wilson  in  a  bad  way.  Mrs. 
van  Deelen  had  been  doing  her  utmost  during 
the  night  for  her  two  patients,  but  to  attempt 
moving  either  was  out  of  the  question.  Bever- 
idge  left  some  money  to  cover  the  expense  of 
caring  for  his  subordinate,  and  Henry  good- 
naturedly  contributed  toward  the  care  of 
Estelle.  It  was  arranged  that  Van  Deelen 
should  drive  Beveridge  and  his  party  back  to 
Spencer's,  stopping  on  the  way  to  send  Lind- 
quist  or  his  boy  to  Hewittson  for  a  doctor. 
Nothing  more  could  be  done  here,  and  so  they 
hurried  Van  Deelen  into  hitching  up  at  once. 
Beveridge  could  not  sleep  in  comfort  until  his 
prisoner  should  be  safe  under  guard  on  the 
revenue  cutter. 

"  There's  one  thing,"  said  the  special  agent 
to  Henry  Smiley,  as  the  four  haggard  men 
climbed  into  the  wagon  that  was  to  take  them  on 
the  long  drive  through  the  forest,  "  there's  one 
thing  I  don't  understand.  Why  didn't  you 
fellows  pick  up  a  horse  at  one  of  these  places 


376  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

and  drive,  instead  of  footing  it,  —  with  a 
woman  along,  too  ? " 

"  We  did  start  in  Spencer's  wagon,  but  it 
broke  down  before  we'd  gone  ten  miles,  the 
road  was  so  bad." 

"  But  we  didn't  see  it,"  said  Pink. 

"  We  must  have  passed  it  on  the  first  stretch 
before  we  found  the  road." 

"  And  then,"  said  Henry,  "  I  thought  we'd 
better  stick  it  out  on  foot.  You  see,  I  didn't 
believe  it  would  occur  to  you  that  we  would 
take  to  the  woods.  And  even  if  it  should,  I 
thought  we  should  have  plenty  of  time  before 
you  started  after  us.  I  misjudged  it  there,  you 
see.  I  was  thinking  hardest  about  the  other 
end  of  it  —  about  what  we  should  do  when  we 
got  down  into  Indiana,  with  maybe  your  men 
on  the  lookout  for  us  everywhere.  And  then 
a  horse  is  a  give-away  —  you  can't  hide  it.  And 
the  road  is  so  heavy  with  sand  that  it's  'most  as 
quick  to  walk.  I  thought  it  all  over  and  de 
cided  it  that  way.  So  we  dragged  the  wagon 
off  into  the  bushes,  and  led  the  horse  off  and 
shot  him.  But  why  didn't  you  ride  ?  " 

"  We  didn't  get  a  chance  until  we  reached 
Lindquist's.  And  then  we  were  so  close  on 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  377 

your  trail  —  and  I  knew  you  were  on  foot  — 
that  I  decided  the  same  way.  If  we  had  been 
rattling  along  in  a  wagon,  you  might  have  heard 
us  quarter  of  a  mile  ahead,  and  all  you  would 
have  had  to  do  then  would  be  to  step  into  the 
bushes  and  let  us  go  by." 

At  a  few  minutes  before  noon  the  party 
alighted  from  the  wagon  at  Spencer's  wharf, 
where  the  Merry  Anne  still  lay,  waved  a  signal 
to  the  launch,  and  were  carried  out  past  False 
Middle  Island  to  the  Foote. 

"  I  guess  there  isn't  much  doubt  what  we'll 
do  next,"  said  Beveridge,  with  a  yawn,  as  the 
launch  drew  near  to  the  companion-ladder, 
which  had  been  let  down  forward  of  the  paddle- 
wheel. 

"  I  guess  there  ain't,"  Pink  replied  with 
another  yawn. 

"  One  thing,  Dick,"  said  Beveridge,  "  before 
we  go  away  from  here,  —  it  isn't  right  to  leave 
your  schooner  in  there  for  the  porcupines  to 
chew  to  pieces." 

Dick,  who  had  been  studying  the  bottom  of 
the  boat,  looked  up  quickly  and  with  a  peculiar 
expression.  After  Henry's  confession,  would 
he  be  allowed  to  sail  her  back  himself?  Bever- 


378  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

idge  caught  the  look,  and  for  an  instant  his 
face  showed  the  faintest  trace  of  confusion. 
"  You  see,"  he  went  on,  "  I've  been  thinking 
it  over  on  the  way  back  from  Van  Deelen's. 
It's  rather  an  irregular  thing  to  do,  but  I'm 
willing,  if  Captain  Sullivan  will  let  us  have  a 
few  men,  to  turn  the  schooner  over  to  Harper 
here.  He's  competent  to  handle  her,  isn't 
he?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Dick  replied  in  a  dry  voice,  "  he 
is  competent  enough." 

Pink's  eyes  brightened.  "  Sure  thing,"  he 
said,  "  I  can  run  her  easy." 

Dick  glanced  at  Pink,  then  dropped  his  eyes 
again.  The  boy  had  heard  only  the  words ; 
he  had  not  caught  the  thoughts  that  were  pass 
ing  between  his  captain  and  the  special  agent. 
To  Dick  this  decision,  coming  in  the  lull  after 
the  excitement,  coming  after  what  seemed  to 
him  proof  of  his  innocence,  sounded  like  the 
judge's  sentence.  Through  the  hour  or  two 
that  followed,  during  the  dinner  on  the  steamer, 
after  the  launch  had  gone  back  into  the  harbor 
with  Pink  and  his  crew,  even  when  the  old 
side-wheeler  had  raised  her  anchor  and  started 
on  her  lumbering  way  around  through  the 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  379 

Straits  and  up  Lake  Michigan  to  Chicago, 
Dick,  lying  dressed  in  his  berth,  was  trying  to 
puzzle  out  the  meaning  of  Beveridge's  words 
and  of  the  momentary  confusion  that  had 
accompanied  them.  And  it  did  not  raise  his 
spirits  that,  after  each  struggle  with  the  problem, 
his  thoughts  were  directed  to  Annie.  Perhaps 
Beveridge  himself,  if  he  had  laid  his  thoughts 
bare,  could  not  have  helped  him  much.  For 
it  was  not  reasoning  that  had  shown  him  the 
tactical  folly  of  allowing  Dick  to  come  sailing 
gloriously  in  to  Annie's  very  front  door,  —  red 
shirt,  neckerchief,  and  all  the  appurtenances  of 
a  hero ;  it  was  the  instinct  that  made  it  impos 
sible  for  him  to  resist  holding  every  advantage 
that  came  to  his  hand.  Beveridge  had  done  a 
big  thing.  He  had  run  down  —  killed  or  cap 
tured  or  driven  out  of  the  country  —  several 
members  of  the  most  skilful  gang  in  the  history 
of  smuggling  on  the  Great  Lakes.  He  had 
done  it  alone.  He  was  even  beginning  to  put 
down  his  surprise  over  the  capture  of  Henry 
Smiley,  and  to  feel  that  Henry  was  the  one  man 
he  had  been  after  from  the  first.  Yes,  he  had 
made  his  success  —  the  thing  left  was  to  win 
Annie.  And  to  do  this  he  must  not  only  see  her 


380  THE   MERRT  JNNE 

before  Dick  could  see  her  ;  he  must  also  arrange 
that  Dick's  appearance  on  the  scene,  when  all  the 
delays  had  been  exhausted,  should  be  an  inglo 
rious  one.  Some  of  his  finest  work  was  yet  to 
come.  In  thinking  it  over,  lying  in  his  berth 
in  the  room  next  to  Dick's,  their  heads  not  two 
feet  apart,  he  fell  asleep  with  a  smile  on  his 
lips.  And  never  had  the  Foote  seen  such 
sleeping  as  followed.  When  all  three  men, 
accusers  and  accused,  had  slept  through  the 
afternoon  and  on  through  the  night,  when  they 
failed  to  hear  even  the  breakfast  gong,  Captain 
Sullivan  began  to  wonder  if  they  meant  to  wake 
at  all. 

Afterward,  for  a  day  or  two,  all  three,  Bev- 
eridge,  Dick,  and  Henry,  were  very  quiet. 
They  sat  yawning  in  deck  chairs,  or  dozed  in 
their  berths.  But  during  this  time,  thanks  to 
the  sunny  skies  and  the  peaceful  lake,  and 
thanks  to  Beveridge's  elation  and  good- nature, 
to  Henry's  surprising  cheerfulness,  and  to  the 
difficulty  Dick  found  in  showing  the  depth  of 
his  feelings,  the  relations  of  the  three  were 
growing  more  and  more  pleasant.  By  common 
consent  they  avoided  discussing  the  chase  or  its 
cause. 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  381 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  last  day  out,  Dick 
and  Beveridge  sat  smoking  on  the  after  deck. 
The  Foote  was  rumbling  slowly  down  the  coast 
somewhere  below  Milwaukee,  and  should  make 
Chicago  before  midnight  if  nothing  broke  in 
the  engine  room.  They  were  discussing  the 
Michigan  peach  crop  when  Henry  drew  up  a 
chair  and  joined  them. 

"  Would  you  mind  telling  me,"  said  Henry 
to  Beveridge,  filling  his  pipe  as  he  spoke, 
"  what  you  are  going  to  do  with  Dick,  here  ?  " 

So  Henry  was  the  one  to  open  the  subject. 
Dick's  lips  drew  together  and  his  hand 
trembled,  but  his  eyes  were  steady. 

Beveridge  was  evasive.  "  What  am  I  going 
to  do  with  him  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Yes.  You  will  have  a  good  deal  of  say 
about  that,  won't  you  ?  " 

"Why  —  yes,  and  no." 

"  Now  that  you  know  he  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it,  you'll  be  able  to  get  him  right  off, 
won't  you  ? " 

"Why  —  yes,  so  far  as  I  know.  I  should 
expect  it  to  turn  out  that  way." 

Henry  saw  that  a  definite  answer  was  not  to 
be  expected,  so  he  puffed  a  moment,  looking 


382  THE   MERRT 

off  to  the  green  shore-line.  Finally  he  said, 
"  Your  man,  —  what's  his  name  ? " 

"Wilson?" 

"  Yes,  he's  in  pretty  bad  shape,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  There's  no  doubt  about  that." 

"  Do  you  think  he'll  pull  through  ? " 

"  I  couldn't  say." 

"  What  would  be  the  penalty  if  he  didn't  ?  " 

"That  is  for  a  judge  and  jury  to  decide." 

"  I  suppose." 

Henry  paused  again.  Dick  was  gazing  out 
at  the  water  with  fixed  eyes.  This  cool  talk 
made  him  shudder. 

"  I've  been  thinking  this  over,"  Henry  went 
on.  "  Of  course,  you  caught  me  red  handed  ; 
and  that,  along  with  what  I'm  going  to  tell 
you,  any  time  when  you're  ready,  gives  you  a 
pretty  clear  case  against  me.  My  outlook 
isn't  what  you  would  call  cheerful.  I've  never 
made  a  will,  but  I  guess  now  is  about  as  good 
a  time  as  any  to  get  about  it.  I've  got  my 
schooner,  and  I've  got  a  little  money  put  away, 
—  some  of  it  drawing  interest  and  some  in  the 
bank,  —  and  what  there  is  of  it  is  to  go  to 
Dick.  He's  the  nearest  approach  to  a  relation 
I  have,  you  know.  And  if  I  were  you,  Dick, 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  383 

I  should  take  some  of  it  the  first  thing  and 
pay  up  for  the  Anne.  That'll  make  you  more 
or  less  independent.  Do  you  fellows  mind 
coming  down  into  the  cabin  and  fixing  it  up 
now  ? " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Beveridge,  rising. 

Dick  found  it  difficult  to  reply,  but  he  fol 
lowed  them  below,  and  sat  with  them  at  the 
dining-table.  Beveridge  got  pen,  ink,  and 
paper. 

"Now,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Henry.  "I'll 
just  make  out  sort  of  a  schedule  of  what  I'm 
worth.  It  won't  take  long.  I  know  just  what 
it  is.  There,  now,  I  guess  it'll  be  enough  to 
say  that  I  devise  and  bequeath  it  all,  without 
any  conditions  or  exceptions,  to  Dick,  he  to 
take  everything  of  mine  for  his  own,  to  hold 
and  to  use  in  any  way  that  he  may  choose. 
Will  you  witness  this,  Beveridge  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  We  ought  to  have  some  others." 

"  I'll  get  them."  Beveridge  stepped  out, 
and  returned  shortly  with  Captain  Sullivan 
and  his  second  officer.  These  put  their  signa 
tures  under  that  of  the  special  agent  and  with 
the  exchange  of  only  a  word  or  two  returned 


384  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

to  their  posts.  Nothing  could  have  been  more 
matter-of-fact,  could  have  savored  more  strongly 
of  humdrum,  everyday  life. 

The  three  men  sat  there  looking  at  the  paper. 
Finally  Henry,  with  a  smile,  blotted  it,  folded 
it,  and  handed  it  to  his  cousin.  "  I'm  going  to 
hand  this  over  to  you,  Dick,"  he  said.  "  That's 
the  easiest  way  of  disposing  of  it." 

Dick  accepted  it  and  turned  it  slowly  over 
and  over  in  his  hands.  "I  —  of  course,  Henry 
—  I  appreciate  this,  but  —  "  and  then  his  face 
surged  with  color,  and  he  broke  out  in  a  round 
voice  :  "  What's  the  use  of  talking  of  this  sort 
of  thing  now!  Wilson  isn't  gone  yet.  I  don't 
believe  he  will  go  either.  You  make  my  blood 
run  cold  !  You'd  better  just  —  " 

"  No,"  Henry  interrupted.  "  No,  I'd  rather 
leave  it  like  this." 

"  But,  look  here,  Henry,  —  why,  great  guns  ! 
You  aren't  even  convicted  of  illicit  distilling 
yet,  let  alone  —  why,  even  if  you  should  be, 
don't  you  see,  you  might  lose  a  few  years, 
but  —  " 

"Oh,  there  wouldn't  be  any  doubt  about 
the  conviction,  Dick.  The  game  is  up,  so  far 
as  I  am  concerned.  Supposing  I  should  escape, 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  385 

what  good  would  it  do  me  ?  I  should  be  a  fu 
gitive.  I  should  have  to  leave  the  country,  and 
go  to  a  new  place  and  begin  all  over  again,  just 
as  I  began  here  on  the  Lakes  twenty  odd  years 
ago.  I  have  amounted  to  something  here, — 
I  have  held  first  place.  I  have  kept  these  fel 
lows,"  - —  he  indicated  Beveridge,  with  a  slight 
upward  turn  at  the  corners  of  his  mouth  — "  I 
have  kept  these  fellows  guessing  from  the  start. 
Anywhere  else  I  should  be  nobody,  and  at  my 
age  that  doesn't  appeal  very  strongly  to  a  man. 
Supposing,  even,  I  could  buy  an  acquittal  and 
stay  right  on  here,  would  it  be  any  better  ? 
You  see,  my  boy,  I  have  been  ambitious  in  a 
way.  I  have  built  up  a  machine  —  a  new  kind 
of  a  machine.  If  I  could  have  been  let  alone 
a  year  or  so  longer,  I  should  have  had  every 
thing  running  as  smooth  and  safe  as  the  Re 
publican  County  Committee.  That  was  the 
one  thing  I  set  out  to  do.  But  it's  busted 
now.  With  these  fellows  once  on  to  the  whole 
thing,  it  could  never  be  carried  on  again.  Oh, 
in  a  cheap,  shyster  way,  maybe ;  but  that's  not 
my  way.  It  was  my  work  and  now  it's  over. 
And  when  a  man  has  come  as  near  success  as  I 
have,  and  spent  the  best  part  of  his  life  working 


386  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

up  toward  it,  he  doesn't  care  about  beginning 
at  the  little  end  of  something  else.  His  main 
spring  is  broken." 

They  were  silent.  Henry  was  easily  the 
most  self-possessed  of  the  three.  Finally  Bev- 
eridge  said :  — 

"  You  have  spoken  once  or  twice,  Mr.  Smiley, 
about  telling  us  how  you  worked  this  business." 

"  Yes,  certainly,  any  time,  —  now,  if  you 
like." 

"  You  won't  mind  if  I  take  down  the  main 
points  and  then  ask  you  to  put  your  name 
to  it?" 

"  Not  at  all.  I  supposed  of  course  you 
would  want  to  do  that." 

This  cold-blooded  courtesy  brought  Dick 
near  to  shuddering  again.  But  he  straightened 
up  in  his  chair  and  prepared  to  listen. 

"  You  say  you  are  the  man  known  as 
Whiskey  Jim  ? " 

"Yes.  That  is  the  name  the  papers  have 
given  to  the  whole  organization,  and  the 
organization,  of  course,  is  me." 

"  Would  you  mind  talking  rather  slowly  ? 
I  know  shorthand,  but  I'm  decidedly  out  of 
practice  at  it." 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  387 

"  Certainly  not.  Suppose  I  explain  the  or 
ganization  in  a  few  words." 

"  That'll  do  first-rate." 

"  If  I  forget  and  get  to  going  too  fast,  just 
stop  me.  You  see,  as  master  of  the  Schmidt, 
doing  a  tramp  lumber  business  all  around  Lake 
Michigan  and  Lake  Huron,  I  was  able  to  run 
the  whole  thing  at  both  ends  and  still  keep 
about  my  business.  I  didn't  have  to  use  the 
mails  —  I  didn't  have  to  do  a  thing  that  didn't 
look  as  solemn  and  proper  as  the  Methodist 
minister  and  his  parish  calls." 

"  I  see.  It  was  ingenious  —  no  doubt  about 
it." 

"  To  be  on  the  safe  side,  I  located  my  stills 
over  in  Canada." 

"  I  know,  —  at  Burnt  Cove." 

"  Yes ;  it  was  about  as  inaccessible  there  as 
any  place  on  the  Lakes.  And  as  we  didn't  try 
to  sell  the  stuff  over  there,  but  shipped  it  all 
across  to  the  States,  we  were  really  safe  enough. 
I  don't  know  what  either  country  could  have 
done  about  it,  so  far  as  the  stills  are  concerned." 

"  Suppose  I  take  it  up  here,  Mr.  Smiley,  do 
you  mind  ?  " 

"  No,  go  ahead." 


388  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Well,  when  you  had  got  it  put  up  and 
ready  to  ship,  you  brought  it  across  Lake  Hu 
ron  in  Spencer's  schooner." 

"  Yes  —  yes." 

"And  at  Spencer's  it  was  repacked  in  the 
timber." 

Henry  smiled  a  little  at  this.  "  Some  of  it 
was.  Of  course  you  know  better  than  to  think 
that  what  I  could  bring  down  in  a  load  of 
timber  once  in  a  month,  or  two,  or  three,  was 
my  only  way  of  getting  the  goods  to  market." 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course." 

"  I  have  done  things  on  a  fairly  large  scale, 
you  know.  But  you  are  right  in  the  main. 
Spencer's  was  the  distributing  point  for  all  our 
goods.  The  old  man  himself  was  what  you 
might  call  the  shipping  clerk  of  the  organiza 
tion.  But  we'll  go  ahead  with  the  timber 
scheme.  That  one  line,  if  you  follow  it  up, 
will  be  enough  to  base  your  case  on,  won't 
it?" 

"Yes,  for  the  present.  Though  you  were 
concerned  in  the  attempt  to  run  a  pipe  line 
under  the  Detroit  River." 

"  No,  not  very  deep.  I  put  a  little  money 
into  it,  but  when  I  saw  who  was  running  it,  I 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  389 

got  out.  I  knew  they  would  get  nipped 
sooner  or  later.  They  went  at  it  wrong." 

"  Well,  you  brought  your  loaded  timbers  to 
the  pier  at  Lakeville.  From  there  they  were 
hauled  by  wagons  to  Captain  Stenzenberger's 
yards.  Stenzenberger,  working  through  Mc- 
Glory,  distributed  the  stuff  in  Chicago." 

Henry  shook  his  head  with  a  touch  of  impa 
tience.  "  You're  getting  off  the  track  there. 
Stenzenberger  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I 
fooled  him  through  some  of  his  men." 

Beveridge  looked  incredulous.  "  So  that's 
the  way  you  want  it  to  go  down,  is  it  ?  " 

"  That's  the  way  it  was." 

"  Excuse  me,  Smiley,  but  that's  absurd.  I 
already  have  a  case  against  Stenzenberger. 
Even  if  I  hadn't,  it  would  outrage  common- 
sense  to  state  that  this  man,  a  lumber  mer 
chant,  could  handle  quantities  of  hollow 
timbers,  could  have  them  right  there  under 
his  nose  all  this  time,  without  knowing  it." 

But  Henry  was  stubborn. 

"  Very  well,"  added  Beveridge,  "  this  is 
your  statement.  I  will  take  down  just  what 
you  choose  to  say." 

"  You've  got  about  enough  there,  I  should 


390  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

imagine.  Oh,  about  Wilson  !  I  was  in  the 
bushes  just  below  the  bridge,  when  he  started 
to  run  around  the  house,  and  I  shot  him. 
There,  now,  with  the  confession  of  the  smug 
gling  and  the  shooting,  you  ought  to  have  a 
case.  Copy  it  out,  put  it  in  the  right  legal 
shape,  and  I'll  sign  it.  All  but  the  Stenzen- 
berger  part.  I  admit  nothing  about  him." 

"All  right.  I'll  put  it  down  as  you  want. 
It  makes  no  difference  to  me,  for  you  can 
never  save  him." 

"One  thing,  Henry,"  said  Dick,  "that  I 
don't  understand.  What  was  McGlory  after 
when  he  ran  the  Anne  up  to  Burnt  Cove  that 
time  ? " 

"  McGlory,"  Henry  replied,  "  was  a  fool. 
When  you  first  told  me  about  it,  I  didn't 
know  what  to  think  myself,  but  after  thinking 
it  over,  and  from  the  way  he  has  talked  since 
when  he  was  a  little  drunk,  I  think  I  have 
made  it  out.  He  has  been  planning  for  some 
time  to  skip  with  this  Estelle  —  desert  his  wife. 
He  arranged  it  with  her  that  time  he  came  up 
with  you.  And  as  what  ready  money  he  had 
was  down  in  Chicago,  where  he  couldn't  very 
well  get  at  it  without  his  wife  knowing  it,  he 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  391 

took  the  chance  of  getting  to  Burnt  Cove 
while  you  were  sleeping  off — "  Henry 
smiled.  "  I  guess  old  Spencer  served  you 
some  pretty  strong  fluids  up  there  that  day. 
Well,  anyway,  McGlory  thought  he  could  take- 
quite  a  lot  of  the  stuff  aboard,  sell  it  through 
one  of  our  regular  trade  channels,  and  get  off 
with  the  money  without  going  home.  He 
couldn't  get  it  into  his  head  that  you  really 
knew  nothing  about  the  business.  It  was  a 
crazy  thing  to  do." 

"  I  should  think  so." 

"  McGlory  and  Roche  are  pretty  good  ex 
amples  of  the  sort  of  thing  I  have  had  to 
contend  with.  I've  never  been  able  to  get 
good  reliable  men  to  work  for  me." 

Beveridge  wanted  to  smile  over  the  incon 
gruity  in  this  speech,  but  he  controlled  himself 
and  listened  soberly.  Henry  went  on  :  — 

"  If  I  could  have  handled  it  alone,  or  with 
only  Spencer  to  help,  you  would  never  have 
got  me.  But  with  such  a  big  business,  I  had 
to  employ  a  good  many  men.  That  was  my 
weak  spot.  I've  known  it  all  along  and 
dreaded  it,  but  I  had  to  run  the  risk.  There's 
a  risk  in  every  business,  and  that  was  the  risk 


392  THE   MERRT  4NNE 

in  mine.  No,  sir,  if  I  could  have  had  com 
petent  men,  I  should  be  laughing  to-day  at 
the  whole  revenue  system." 

"  I  should  take  exception  to  that,  Smiley," 
said  Beveridge.  "Your  men  weren't  the 
only  thing  that  gave  you  away,  not  by  any 
means." 

"  Oh,  weren't  they  ?  " 

"  No,  the  most  important  clew  was  the  label 
you  used.  But  say,  Smiley,  here  is  what  puz 
zles  me.  Why  is  it  that  you,  a  man  of  un 
usual  ability,  haven't  put  in  your  time  at 
something  respectable  ?  The  brains  and  work 
you  have  wasted  on  smuggling  would  have 
made  you  a  comfortable  fortune  in  some  other 
line." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  ( respectable,' 
Beveridge,  —  politics,  trading,  preaching?" 

"  I  guess  you  recognize  the  distinction." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  don't  recognize  it  at  all. 
I  asked  for  information." 

"  Oh,  well,  there  is  no  use  opening  up  that 
question.  We  all  know  the  difference  between 
right  and  wrong,  honesty  and  dishonesty." 

"  Do  we  ?     Do  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  always  supposed  I  did." 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  393 

"  You're  an  unusual  man.  I  congratulate 
you." 

"  See  here,  Smiley,  this  is  interesting.  You 
don't  mean  to  say  that  you  consider  smuggling 
an  honorable  business  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

«  Why  not !     Why  —  why  —  " 

"  It  might  clear  your  ideas,  Beveridge,  to  go 
into  this  question  a  little.  Smuggling  means, 
I  suppose,  the  bringing  of  merchandise  from, 
say,  Canada  to  this  country." 

"  Dutiable  merchandise,  yes." 

"  What  makes  it  dutiable  ? " 

"  The  law." 

"  What  makes  the  law  ? " 

"  The  law  is  made  by  the  people." 

"  What  people  ?  " 

"Oh,  see  here,  Smiley,  this  —  " 

"  No,  wait  a  minute.  The  trouble  with 
you  is  you  don't  do  your  own  thinking;  I'll 
do  a  little  for  you.  Take  an  imaginary  case : 
There  is  a  little  group  of  men  in  this  country 
who  manufacture,  say,  tacks.  As  every  man 
should,  they  are  looking  out  for  their  own 
interests.  They  are  out  to  make  money. 
The  tacks  mean  nothing  to  them,  except  as 


394  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

they  can  be  turned  into  money.  That  is  right 
and  proper,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Now  suppose,  among  them  all,  they 
employ  a  good  many  thousand  men  in  their 
tack  factories,  all  of  them  voters.  Suppose 
they're  rich,  and  ready  to  contribute  a  neat 
little  sum  to  the  campaign  fund.  Now  then, 
if  any  other  group  of  men  start  up,  just  over 
the  Canadian  line,  where  labor  is  cheaper,  mak 
ing  tacks,  and  underselling  our  tack  market, 
the  natural  thing  for  our  tack  men  to  do  is  to 
go  to  their  representatives  in  Congress  and  say, 
*  Here,  if  you  want  our  votes  and  our  money, 
you  must  pass  a  law  putting  a  duty  on  tacks.' 
Why  do  they  say  this  ?  Because  with  such  a 
law  they  can  make  more  money.  The  people 
aren't  helped  by  it,  mind  you ;  the  people  have 
to  pay  all  the  more.  The  only  men  to  profit 
by  it  are  the  little  group  of  tack  manufacturers 
who  want  to  get  rich  and  fat  at  the  expense  of 
this  public  you  talk  about.  Now  do  the 
Congressmen  fall  into  line  and  pass  the  law  ? 
Certainly.  Why  ?  Because  they  are  helped 
by  it.  They  get  the  votes  and  the  money 
contributions  —  and  probably  a  neat  bribe 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  395 

besides.  All  this  while,  mind  you,  the  people 
are  out  of  the  game.  They  are  being  robbed 
by  a  law  that  was  made  entirely  to  enrich  a 
little  group  of  men.  These  bribe  givers  and 
takers  put  up  a  job  on  us,  the  most  dishonest 
kind  of  a  job,  and  yet  you  seem  to  think  I'm 
dishonest,  too,  because  I  follow  their  example 
and  look  out  for  number  one." 

"  Hold  on,  Smiley,  there's  a  fallacy  there  —  " 
"  Where  ?  Point  it  out.  I'm  doing  an 
honest  business.  The  stuff  I  sell  is  well  made. 
Do  you  suppose  I  care  what  your  government 
people  think  ?  Why,  the  whole  government 
system  is  a  network  of  bribes  and  rake-offs 
and  private  snaps." 

"  Of  course,  if  you're  an  anarchist  —  " 
"  Look  here,  Beveridge,  this  talk  seems  to  be 
rather  personal  —  suppose  we  make  it  more  so. 
Let's  see  if  we  can't  find  out  what  your  motives 
are  in  this  business.  Are  they  Christian,  or 
patriotic,  or  are  you,  like  myself  and  the  tack 
men,  and  the  law-makers,  looking  out  for 
number  one  ?  The  man  that  was  out  here 
before  you  came  I  bought  off.  But  it  didn't 
take  me  long  to  see  that  you  couldn't  be 
bought.  Now  why  ?  That's  the  question. 


396  THE    MERRY  ANNE 

Was  it  because  you  have  principles  against  it  ? 
Not  at  all.  Don't  get  mad.  I  don't  doubt  a 
minute  that  you  have  some  principles  that  you 
learned  in  Sunday-school ;  but  Lord,  when  a 
man's  grown  up  and  has  his  living  to  fight  for, 
do  you  think  the  Sunday-school  has  any 
chance.  So,  you  see,  I  thought  it  over,  and 
reasoned  it  out  about  like  this :  You  and  the 
other  man  were  both  ambitious,  but  where  he 
wanted  money,  you  want  position.  It's  to 
your  interest  to  keep  the  confidence  of  your 
superiors.  That's  why  I  couldn't  buy  you  ;  it's 
all  right,  you've  done  a  good  job,  but  don't  try 
to  persuade  yourself  that  your  integrity  is  armor 
plate,  that  you've  been  doing  right  for  the  good 
of  the  Sunday-school  or  from  patriotic  motives. 
Just  because  you  happen  to  be  on  the  winning 
side,  because  your  gang  happens  to  be  on  top, 
don't  make  the  mistake  of  thinking  you're  bet 
ter  than  the  rest  of  us.  For  you  aren't." 

Dick  saw  that  Beveridge's  tongue  was 
trembling  with  a  keen  retort,  and  he  broke  in, 
"  But  you  haven't  told  how  I  was  worked  into 
this,  Henry." 

"  Oh,  that's  simple.  I  wanted  to  boost  you 
along  in  the  world,  but  you  were  young  and 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  397 

had  notions.  So  I  thought  if  I  could  once 
make  you  bring  down  a  load  of  the  stuff  without 
knowing  it,  you  would  find  yourself  in  for  it, 
and  then  I  could  make  you  see  things  in  the 
right  proportions.  I  wanted  you,  bad.  With 
one  such  man  as  you,  I  could  have  fooled  them 
forever."  He  paused  and  added  medita 
tively:  "And  I  would  have  made  you  a  rich 
man,  Dick.  But  just  when  I  had  it  arranged, 
you  came  and  told  me  that  you  had  gone  daffy 
over  Cap'n  Fargo's  little  girl,  and  I  saw  I  had 
as  good  as  lost  you.  Yes,  sir,  I  could  have 
made  your  fortune.  Well,  anyhow,  you'll  get 
something  out  of  it,  after  —  " 

Beveridge  rose  to  go  to  his  room,  gathering 
up  the  papers.  "  I'm  going  to  write  this  out 
now,  boys.  1*11  see  you  later." 

Late  in  the  evening  the  statement  was  ready. 
Henry  read  it  through,  suggested  a  few 
emendations,  and  signed  it.  Then  the  three 
went  on  deck. 

Far  down  on  the  southwestern  horizon  was  a 
row  of  twinkling  lights.  Above  them,  in  the 
sky,  was  spread  a  warm  glow. 

"We're  getting  along,"  said  Henry. 
"  There's  Chicago." 


398  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Oh,  is  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Beveridge  with 
interest. 

"Yes.  We'll  soon  be  in.  Isn't  it  about 
time  to  put  the  handcuffs  on  me  ?  " 

Beveridge  smiled.  "  That  will  hardly  be 
necessary." 

"  But  Chicago's  a  bad  town.  I  might  get 
away  from  you." 

"  We  won't  worry  about  that." 

"  Do  you  carry  the  things  on  you  ?  I 
never  saw  any." 

Beveridge  drew  a  pair  from  his  hip  pocket, 
and  handed  them  to  Henry. 

"  How  do  they  work  ?  " 

"  Easily.     Slip  them  on  —  this  way." 

There  was  a  click  and  Henry's  hands  were 
chained  together. 

"  That's  easy  enough,  isn't  it  ?  "  said  he, 
walking  a  few  steps  up  and  down  the  deck, 
surveying  himself.  Then  he  went  to  the  rail 
and  leaned  on  it,  looking  silently  off  toward 
the  lights. 

Just  what  carne  next,  Dick  never  could  re 
member.  He  had  turned  away  to  gaze  at  the 
alternating  red-and-white  lights  that  marked 
Grosse  Pointe  and  home,  so  that  he  saw  little 


HARBOR   LIGHTS  399 

more  than  Henry's  swift  movement  and  Bever- 
idge's  start.  An  instant  more  and  he  was 
standing  at  the  rail  with  Beveridge,  in  the  place 
where  Henry  had  been  standing  a  moment 
before — gazing  down  at  the  foam  that  fell  away 
from  the  bows.  He  heard  the  special  agent 
sing  out :  "  Stop  her,  stop  her,  Cap'n  !  Man 
overboard ! "  He  was  conscious  that  the 
engines  had  stopped ;  and  he  heard  the  Cap 
tain's  voice  from  the  bridge  :  "  No  use  !  He 
went  under  the  wheel !  "  Then  came  the  order 
to  lower  a  boat,  and  the  rush  of  feet  across  the 
deck. 


CHAPTER   XV 

IN  WHICH    BEVERIDGE  SURPRISES 
HIMSELF 


CHAPTER   XV 

IN   WHICH    BEVERIDGE    SURPRISES    HIMSELF 

DICK  and  Beveridge  stood  on  the  wharf  at 
Chicago.  The  lights  that  wavered  over 
their  faces  from  the  lanterns  of  the  Foote  and 
from  the  arc  lamp  overhead  showed  them 
sober,  silent.  The  camaraderie  of  the  chase 
and  of  the  voyage  that  followed  had  ceased  to 
be.  Beveridge's  elation  had  been  subdued  by 
the  distressing  event  of  the  evening,  but  still 
the  mind  behind  his  decorously  quiet  face  was 
teeming  with  plans  and  schemes.  Dick  was 
gloomy,  bewildered.  Both  seemed  to  be  wait 
ing  for  something.  They  stood  watching  the 
bustle  aboard  the  revenue  cutter  as  the  crew 
made  her  snug  for  the  night,  until  finally  Dick 
spoke : — 

"  You  haven't  told  me  yet  what  I'm  to  do 
next,  Bill." 

403 


4o4  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  What  you're  to  do  next  ?  " 

"Why  —  yes.     You  see  —  " 

"  Go  on.     I'm  listening." 

But  Dick  found  it  hard  to  go  on.  "  I 
didn't  know  but  what  — " 

Beveridge  turned  abruptly  at  a  noise  up  the 
street,  placed  two  fingers  in  his  mouth,  and 
whistled.  And  after  a  moment  Dick  saw  what 
had  kept  him  waiting.  It  was  no  sense  of 
delicacy.  Beveridge  had  been  looking  for  a 
carriage.  "  Get  in,  Smiley,"  he  said,  when  the 
driver  pulled  up. 

"Get  in?" 

"Yes— after  you." 

"You  mean,  then — " 

"Well,  what?" 

"  I  didn't  suppose  after  what  has  happened 
that  you'd  need  me  any  longer." 

"  Not  need  you,  Smiley  ? "  They  were  seated 
within  the  vehicle  now,  the  door  was  shut,  and 
the  driver,  the  special  agent's  whispered  word  in 
his  ear,  was  whipping  up  his  horses.  "I'm 
afraid  you  don't  understand.  I  have  no  author 
ity  to  let  you  off." 

It  was  his  manner  more  than  his  words 
that  suddenly  swept  away  Dick's  delicacy  and 


BEVERIDGE  SURPRISES  HIMSELF     405 

aroused  his  anger.  "The  hell  you  haven't!" 
was  his  reply. 

"  Certainly  not." 

"  You  don't  expect  me  to  believe  that.  You 
have  no  case  against  me  now." 

"  I  grant  you  that.  And  I  can  promise  you 
that  you  won't  be  detained  more  than  a  few 
days  at  the  outside.  But  this  business  has 
passed  up  out  of  my  hands  now.  All  I  can  do 
is  to  deliver  you  up,  make  my  report,  and  set 
the  machinery  in  motion  for  your  release. 

Dick  sat  motionless,  gazing  into  the  shadows 
before  him.  "  What  right  had  you  to  let  Pink 
go,  then  ? " 

"  That  was  different." 

"How?  — How?" 

"  Nobody  ever  looked  on  Harper  as  of  any 
importance  in  the  business." 

"  That  is  no  answer.  You're  holding  me  on 
a  technicality.  The  importance  of  the  man 
makes  no  difference  when  you  are  dealing  in 
red  tape." 

"  See  here,  Smiley,  don't  you  think  you  had 
better  stop  abusing  me,  and  take  a  sensible 
view  of  it  ? " 

As  he  spoke,  they  were  crossing  State  Street, 


4o6  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

and  the  brighter  light  illuminated  the  interior 
of  the  carriage.  For  reply,  Dick  turned  and 
looked  at  his  custodian,  looked  him  through 
and  through  with  a  gaze  of  profound  contempt. 
Words  were  not  necessary ;  Beveridge  saw  that 
Dick  had  fathomed  his  motives,  Dick  saw  that 
he  was  understood.  At  the  moment  neither 
was  thinking  of  the  gloomy  city  that  was 
closing  in  around  them  ;  for  both  saw  the  wide, 
free  beach,  the  gleaming  lake,  the  two  long 
piers,  the  quaint  little  house  on  stilts,  the  upper 
balcony  with  its  burden  of  forget-me-nots  and 
geraniums  and  all  the  blossoms  that  Annie 
loved.  And  both  had  in  their  nostrils  the 
refreshing  smell  of  the  east  wind  —  made  up  of 
all  the  faint  mingled  odors  of  Lake  Michigan 
—  a  little  pine  in  it,  a  little  fish  in  it,  but,  more 
than  all,  the  health  and  strength  and  wholesome 
sweetness  of  the  Lakes.  And  both  were  silent 
while  the  carriage  rattled  along,  while  they 
stepped  out,  crossed  the  walk,  and  entered  a 
stone  building  with  barred  windows,  while,  with 
Beveridge  on  one  side  and  a  guard  on  the 
other,  Dick  walked  to  his  cell. 

Beveridge   caught   the    half-past   eight   train 
for  Lakeville    the   next    morning,  and  walked 


BEVERIDGE  SURPRISES  HIMSELF    407 

straight  down  to  the  house  on  stilts.  Annie 
was  out  on  the  lake,  her  mother  said,  looking 
at  him,  while  she  said  it,  and  after,  with  doubt 
ful,  questioning  eyes.  So  he  sat  down  on  the 
steps  and  looked  out  over  the  beach  and  the 
water.  It  was  a  fine  warm  day,  with  just  breeze 
enough  to  ripple  the  lake  from  shore  to  hori 
zon,  and  set  it  sparkling  in  the  sun.  The  sky 
was  blue  and  white ;  and  the  cloud  shadows 
here  and  there  on  the  water  took  varied  and 
varying  colors  —  deep  blue,  yellow,  sea-green. 
The  shore-line  dwindled  off  to  the  northward 
in  long  scallops,  every  line  of  the  yellow  beach 
cut  out  cleanly,  every  oak  on  the  bluff  outlined 
sharply.  In  truth,  it  was  a  glorious  day — just 
the  day  Beveridge  would  have  chosen  had  the 
choice  been  his  —  the  day  of  days,  on  which 
he  was  to  make  the  last  arrangements  in  clinch 
ing  his  success,  in  assuring  his  future.  Annie 
had  gone  out  to  the  nets  with  her  father.  She 
was,  at  the  moment,  rowing  him  in.  On  other 
days  Beveridge  had  sat  here  and  watched  her 
coming  in  from  the  nets,  with  a  great  box  of 
whitefish  aboard. 

The  boat  grounded  on  the  sand.     Captain 
Fargo  stepped  out  and  drew  it  up.     Beveridge 


408  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

rose  and  smiled  lazily  while  he  waited  for  Annie 
to  come  up  to  the  steps.  The  sun  had  been 
in  her  eyes,  and  at  first  she  did  not  see  him 
distinctly. 

"Well,"  said  Beveridge,  "hello!  Didn't 
expect  to  see  me,  did  you  ?  " 

She  stopped  abruptly  and  looked  at  him. 
He  did  not  know  just  how  to  interpret  her 
expression. 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  speak  to  me,  Annie  ?  " 

Her  answer,  when  it  came,  blanketed  him, 
and  left  him,  so  to  speak,  flapping  in  the  wind. 
She  said,  "  What  have  you  done  with  Dick  ?  " 

"  Dick  ?     Why  —  oh,  he's  all  right." 

"Why  hasn't  he  been  back?" 

"  He'll  be  around  all  right.  They  thought 
it  would  be  necessary  to  hold  him  for  a  few 
days." 

"  To  hold  him,  —where  ?  " 

"Don't  you  see  —  " 

"  Is  he  in  prison  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  that  will  be  fixed  —  " 

"In  Chicago?" 

"Yes,  he  — " 

"  Father,"  said  she,  "  Dick's  in  prison.  We 
must  go  down  to  see  him."  And  she  turned 


,BEVERIDGE  SURPRISES  HIMSELF     409 

back  to  Beveridge  with  the  question,  "  When 
can  we  get  a  train  ? " 

What  could  Beveridge  do  but  fumble  in  his 
pockets,  bring  out  a  handful  of  papers,  look 
them  over  until  he  found  a  time-table,  and 
announce  that  the  next  train  was  the  ten- 
twelve  ? 

"You  will  have  to  show  us  how  to  get 
there,  Mr.  Beveridge,"  said  Annie.  "  Come 
and  change  your  clothes,  father.  Will  you 
wait  here,  Mr.  Beveridge  ? " 

Beveridge  said  that  he  would,  certainly. 
And  then  when  father  and  daughter  had  hur 
ried  into  the  house,  and  after  Captain  Fargo  had 
turned  his  box  of  fish  over  to  a  boy  who  acted 
on  occasions  as  his  helper,  the  special  agent  sat 
down  again  and  looked  at  the  Lake.  The 
sun  was  shining  on,  bright  as  ever ;  the  water 
was  still  varicolored,  the  sky  still  blue-and- 
white ;  but  he  saw  them  not. 

In  something  more  than  twenty  minutes 
Annie  was  down  and  waiting  impatiently  for 
her  father  Her  whole  mind  was  bent  on 
getting  to  ;:^wn.  She  hardly  saw  Beveridge. 
As  for  him,  chagrined  as  he  was,  he  had  to 
admit  that  she  looked  very  pretty  in  her  trim 


4io  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

blue  gown.  He  had  never  before  seen  her 
dressed  for  the  city.  He  was  inclined  to  feel 
awed  as  well  as  bewildered.  Then,  finally, 
appeared  the  Captain  in  his  Sunday  clothes. 
And  the  three  set  out  for  the  train  and 
Dick. 

All  the  way  Annie  was  preoccupied.  Hardly 
a  word  could  Beveridge  get.  From  the  train 
they  hurried  over  to  the  stone  building  with 
the  barred  windows.  Here  the  special  agent 
held  a  short,  whispered  conversation  which 
ended  in  the  unbarring  of  doors  and  the  word 
to  follow  down  a  corridor.  And  finally  the 
last  door  was  opened  and  Dick  stood  before 
them,  dishevelled,  unshaven,  but  indisputably 
Dick.  Beveridge  found  himself  slipping  into 
the  background  when  Annie  and  the  prisoner 
were  clasping  hands  without  a  word ;  but  he 
watched  them.  He  saw  the  question  in  Dick's 
eyes,  —  the  something  deep  and  burning,  the 
something  that  was  not  a  question,  in  Annie's. 
He  saw  that  she  did  not  think  of  withdrawing 
her  hand ;  he  knew  that  in  one  sh  rt  moment 
more  her  arms  would  be  thrown  ?  round  Dick's 
neck.  He  turned  away,  and,  leaving  them 
there,  walked  out  into  the  street. 


BEVERIDGE  SURPRISES  HIMSELF     411 

The  lights  were  out  at  "  The  Teamster's 
Friend."  It  was  ten  o'clock  at  night,  and 
from  Stenzenberger's  lumber  office  on  one 
corner  through  to  the  corner  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  block  the  street  was  deserted.  But 
Beveridge,  who  slowly  turned  the  corner  by  the 
lumber  yard,  —  Beveridge,  who  had  passed  the 
most  turbulent  day  of  his  life  trying  to  real 
ize  that  he  had  lost  Annie,  —  knew  where  to 
look.  Lonely,  miserable,  plunged  into  dejec 
tion  now  that  the  strain  was  over,  he  turned 
into  the  driveway  that  led  to  the  sheds  in  the 
rear  of  the  saloon,  and,  pausing,  looked  up. 
Yes,  there  was  a  light  in  the  upper  rear  win 
dow.  He  whistled.  The  curtain  went  up  a 
little  way  —  some  one  was  looking  down.  The 
curtain  went  down  again  ;  the  light  slowly  dis 
appeared,  leaving  grotesque  shadows  on  the 
curtain  as  it  was  carried  from  the  room.  Steps 
sounded  in  the  hall ;  the  bolt  slipped  back, 
and  Madge  stood  in  the  doorway. 

"  Hello,"  said  Beveridge.     "  Here  I  am." 
"  Oh,"  cried  Madge,  with  what  sounded  like 
a  gasp   of  relief.      She  drew  him  quickly  in, 
closed  and  locked  the  door,  and  stood  looking 
at  him. 


4i2  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  I  had  to  go  out  of  town,  Madge.  I  didn't 
get  in  till  late  last  night.  I  have  some  news 
for  you." 

"  Come  in,"  she  said.  And  they  went  back 
into  the  dining  room,  where  she  had  set  down 
the  lamp.  They  took  chairs  on  opposite  sides 
of  the  table.  Madge  rested  her  elbows  on  the 
red  cloth,  propped  her  chin  on  her  two  hands, 
and  waited.  Beveridge,  while  he  looked  at  her, 
was  rapidly  getting  back  his  self-possession. 

"  Well,  Madge,  there's  a  good  deal  to  tell 
you.  McGlory  —  " 

She  waited  as  long  as  she  could,  then  ex 
claimed,  in  an  uncertain  voice:  "What  about 
him  ?  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  He's  gone." 

"Where?" 

"  Nobody  on  earth  can  tell  you  that." 

She  leaned  across  the  table  and  caught  his 
arm.  "  Is  he  dead  ? " 

"Yes,  dead  — and  buried." 

She  leaned  back  in  her  chair.  She  could 
not  take  her  eyes  from  his  face,  and  yet  she 
said  nothing.  It  could  not  be  said  that  her 
face  showed  a  trace  of  happiness,  but  there 
was,  nevertheless,  a  strange  sort  of  relief  there. 


BEVERIDGE  SURPRISES  HIMSELF     413 

For  a  long  time  neither  spoke.  But  Bever- 
idge's  impetuous  nature  could  not  long  endure 
this  silence.  "  Well,  Madge,"  he  broke  out, 
"  do  you  still  want  me  ?  " 

She  did  not  answer. 

"That's  what  I've  come  to  know.  If  you'll 
do  it,  we  will  be  married  to-night." 

"You  couldn't  — "  her  voice  was  low  and 
dreamy.  "You  couldn't  get  a  license  before 
to-morrow,"  she  said. 


cc 


It's  queer,"  said  Dick,  "but  that  is  the 
Beveridge  of  it.  You  can't  tell  what  he  is 
going  to  do  next.  I  don't  believe  he  knows 
himself  half  the  time." 

The  Captain,  with  Annie  at  the  tiller  and 
Dick  stretched  lazily  out  beside  her,  was  skim 
ming  and  bounding  along  off  the  Grosse  Pointe 
light. 

"  Wasn't  it  —  "  Annie  wore  a  conscious  ex 
pression —  "  wasn't  it  rather  sudden  ?  " 

"  It  must  have  been.     But  that  is  Beveridge." 
"  And  she  was  a  saloon  keeper's  wife  ?  " 
"Yes,  —  but  it  wasn't  so  bad  as  it  sounds 
when  you  say  it  that  way.     She  was  too  good 
for  McGlory." 


4H  THE   MERRY  ANNE 

"  Oh,  you  —  you  know  her  ?  " 

"  I've  seen  her,  yes." 

"But  isn't  she  — old?" 

"  Not  so  very.  She  can't  be  much  older 
than  Beveridge.  She  is  good  looking  —  al 
most  pretty.  And  she  looks  sort  of — well, 
when  you  saw  her  there  in  McGlory's  place,  it 
seemed  too  bad.  She  was  quiet,  and  she  looked 
as  if  she  was  made  for  something  better." 

They  were  silent  for  a  time.  Then  their 
eyes  met,  and  she  missed  his  answering  smile. 
"  What  is  it,  Dick  ?  "  she  asked. 

"I  was  thinking  about  Henry  —  about  what 
he  was,  and  then  what  he  did  for  me.  We 
have  everything  to  thank  him  for,  you  and  I, 
Annie."  He  paused,  then  went  on.  "  I  sup 
pose  he  was  wrong  —  he  must  have  been 
wrong  if  we  are  to  believe  in  law  at  all.  But 
that  night  on  the  steamer,  when  he  was  telling 
us  about  it,  I  watched  him  and  Beveridge 
both  pretty  closely,  —  the  expression  of  their 
faces  and  their  eyes.  The  way  a  man  looks  at 
you  tells  so  much,  Annie.  And  I  knew  all  the 
while,  though  Beveridge  was  standing  ^here  for 
the  law,  and  Henry  for  what  they  call  crime, 
still  —  " 


BEVERIDGE  SURPRISES  HIMSELF     415 

"  What,  Dick  ?  " 

"  —  if  I  were  in  a  tight  place  again  and  had 
to  choose  which  of  those  two  men  to  trust  my 
life  with,  I  shouldn't  need  to  stop  to  think. 
It  would  be  Henry,  every  time." 

He  sat  up  to  shift  his  position,  when  some 
thing  which  he  saw  on  the  northern  horizon 
drove  the  clouds  from  his  face.  This  was  a 
great  day  for  Dick.  "  Look,  Annie  !  "  He 
was  pointing  eagerly.  "  Look  there  !  " 

"  Where  ? " 

"  Can't  you  see  it  —  the  Anne  ?  " 

Then  Annie's  heart  leaped  too.  And  she 
ordered  Dick  to  ease  off  the  sheet,  adding 
only,  "We'll  meet  her,  shan't  we?"  To 
which  Dick  responded  with  a  nod. 

So  they  headed  north,  with  everything  draw 
ing  full  and  the  bubbles  dancing  by.  Pink 
saw  them  and  came  up  into  the  wind.  The 
Captain  slipped  alongside,  a  sailor  caught  the 
painter,  Dick  handed  Annie  up,  clambered 
after,  stepped  to  the  wheel,  and  they  swung 
slowly  off. 

"  Make  the  boat  fast  astern,"  called  Dick  to 
one  of  the  revenue  cutter  men. 

"  All  right,  sir." 


416  THE   MERRT  ANNE 

"  Things  gone  all  right,  Pink  ?  " 

"  First  class.     Not  much  wind  in  the  Straits." 

"  I  hardly  thought  there  would  be." 

Annie  was  perched  on  the  cabin  trunk,  look 
ing  at  Dick  with  laughing  eyes.  She  enjoyed 
watching  him,  she  liked  his  easy  way  of  falling 
into  the  command  of  his  schooner,  she  admired 
the  muscles  on  his  forearm  (for  he  had  rolled 
up  his  sleeves).  He  caught  her  glance. 
"  Want  to  take  her,  Annie  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Dick.     Will  you  let  me  ?  " 

"If  you  want  to." 

So  Annie  took  the  wheel.  She  stood  there, 
a  merry,  graceful  figure,  —  though  Dick  kept 
close  by  and  reached  out  a  steadying  hand  now 
and  then,  —  while  the  schooner  came  about, 
headed  for  the  long  pier,  ran  up  neatly  into 
her  berth,  threw  out  her  lines,  and  stopped, 
her  voyage  over. 

[NOTE  :  —  In  the  spring,  when  the  ice  broke  up  in  the 
streams  of  Michigan,  a  party  of  lumbermen  found  what  had 
been  the  body  of  a  man  lying  in  a  shallow  creek,  deep  in  the 
forest.  Particulars  would  be  unpleasant.  It  is  enough  to 
say  that  they  buried  him  there,  being  rough  men  and  far  from 
a  coroner  ;  and  that  on  a  water-soaked  envelope  in  his  pocket 
was  found  a  name  which,  as  nearly  as  anything,  seemed  to 
spell  "  Roche."  To  the  persons  of  this  tale  his  end  remained 


BEVERIDGE  SURPRISES  HIMSELF     417 

a  mystery.  It  might  be  added  that  Beveridge  found  more 
difficulty  than  he  had  foreseen  in  weaving  his  net  around 
Stenzenberger.  In  fact  the  special  agent  had  failed,  at  last 
accounts,  to  disturb  the  serenity  of  the  lumber  dealer,  in 
spite  of  the  moral  certainty  that  his  share  in  the  guilt  was 
the  largest  of  any.  Perhaps  his  secret  went  to  the  bottom 
of  Lake  Michigan  with  Henry  Smiley. — S.M.] 


-J 


CALUMET   "K" 

BY 

MERWIN-WEBSTER 

Authors  of  "The  Short  Line  War,"  etc. 

With  Illustrations  by  HARRY  C.  EDWARDS 

Cloth.       lamo.       $1.50 


"A  novel,  with  several  elements  of  rather  unusual  interest.  As 
a  tale,  it  is  swift,  simple,  and  absorbing,  and  one  does  not  willingly 
put  it  down  until  it  is  finished.  It  has  to  do  with  grain-elevator 
business,  with  railways,  strikes,  and  commercial  and  financial  mat 
ters  generally,  woven  skilfully  into  a  human  story  of  love." 

—  The  Commercial  Advertiser,  New  York. 

"  The  whole  commercial  world  of  the  United  States  has,  for  some 
months  back,  been  metaphorically  removing  its  hat  in  deference  to 
the  much-lauded  individual  who  carried  some  message  or  other  'to 
the  famous  gentleman  bearing  the  name  of  a  well-known  brand  of 
cigars.  The  carrier  of  the  message  can  now,  in  the  enlightened 
parlance  of  the  vaudeville,  '  go  way  back  and  sit  down,'  for  in 
Charlie  Bannon  we  have  one  who  would  carry  a  message  to  Garcia 
with  the  same  indifference  and  success  as  a  messenger  boy  would 
carry  flowers  to  one's  best  girl,  and  be  no  more  appalled  by  the 
magnitude  of  the  task. "  —  The  Philadelphia  Telegraph. 

" '  Calumet  "  K  "  '  is  a  novel  that  is  exciting  and  absorbing,  but  not 
the  least  bit  sensational.  It  is  the  story  of  a  rush.  .  .  .  The  book 
is  an  unusually  good  story;  one  that  shows  the  inner  workings  of 
the  labor  union,  and  portrays  men  who  are  the  bone  and  sinew  of 
the  earth."—  The  Toledo  Blade. 

"The  heroine  in  this  case  is  the  hero's  stenographer;  but  the 
action  of  the  story  grows  out  of  the  attempt  of  rival  capitalists  and 
grain  men  to  balk  the  building  of  a  grain  elevator  by  a  set  date." 

—  The  Burlington  Free  Press. 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,   NEW  YORK 
I 


THE  SHORT  LINE  WAR 

BY 

MERWIN-WEBSTER 
Cloth.  .  lamo.    $1.50 


"A  thrilling  tale  of  modern  heroism  and  chivalry,  and  the 
story  of  a  romance  of  an  unusually  stirring  and  admirable 
quality."  —  Boston  Courier. 

"There  is  a  fascinating  love  story  woven  through  the 
details  of  the  plotting  and  counter-plotting  of  the  warring 
railroad  interests."  —  Chicago  Daily  News. 

"  A  rattling  good  railroad  story." 

—  Evening  Telegraph,  Philadelphia. 

"  Breezy,  up-to-date ;  ...  the  best  of  its  kind." 

—  Springfield  Republican. 

"  One  of  the  irost  readable  of  this  season's  summer  novels." 

—  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"A  capital  story  of  adventure  in  the  field  of  railroading." 

—  Outlook. 


THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 
2 


